Mud
by Alcalina
Summary: Clone Wars: Kenobi and Skywalker are getting home after a long mission on a muddy planet. Obi-Wan can't wait to get back to the Temple as his former Padawan is driving him mad. He will find out he is not so eager to leave. Obi-Wan/Anakin slash. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Anakin is dancing in the battle. His Force Signature shines as he cuts down another droid.

'My Anakin,' I think foolishly.

He's not mine. Not my Padawan nor anything else.

He walks backwards and stops when his back touches mine. We fight like this, breathing at the same pace, feeling one in the Force, until there's nothing left moving. All is silent, except for our short breaths and the wounded soldiers' wails.

"I'm calling Rex," he whispers.

I kneel to touch the nearest Clone's throat in search of life signs as he tells our coordinates to the comm.

We spend the following hours dividing the fallen soldiers from the wounded ones. It's a Republic's victory, but it may be hard to keep it in mind when you're soaked in your men's blood.

Near the debris of an explosion, a dim light glares in the Force. I dig frantically until I see the white of armour. The glow fades a moment before I can pull him out.

Suddenly, I am aware of how tired I have become over last weeks. I mutter a curse, my knees in the mud.

A light touch on my shoulder makes me wince. Rex is behind me, his expression blank.

"My men will take care of this, General."

He's touching me with concern. Highly unusual for a Clone, even for Rex; they tend to avoid every unnecessary physical contact.

"You are right. I'm of no use here," I say, getting up. "I'll try to get some rest."

I thank him for his solicitude, but my words sound empty. I feel his eyes on my back as I walk away.

When I enter our shared tent, Anakin is sitting on his bed. He already took off his wet tunic and is trying to do the same with one of his boots, kicking it indolently with the other one. Without a word, I take his leg in my hands and pull to help him. He sighs in relief and throws himself back on the mattress.

The late afternoon light looks green through the fabric of the tent, and all smells of mould. We are so used to this now that it somehow feels like home.

"Do you think one can get his bones wet? Because I haven't been dry in weeks."

 _Whining_.

I roll my eyes, but smile inside. This is his way to keep death images at bay. It's awkward and annoying, but I appreciate the effort.

Wait, am I enjoying Anakin's grumbling? This is alarming.

"Look. Mushrooms are growing in my armpit."

I manage to hold back a snicker. "Anakin, certainly you can't think it's my desire to check your armpit growths. Now, be a good boy and let me write my report."

I should know better; this is the best way to make him go on forever.

"Are you going to do nothing as I rot? My Master should take care of me!"

"I have not been your Master for a long time now, and it is my profound belief that General Skywalker is perfectly able to take care of his mushrooms."

He ignores me and stares at the ceiling with his arms under his head, huffing and pouting. I do my best to keep my eyes on the holopad.

The truth is, I like this; stay together in silence, feel him near.

'In silence' is the key, I think with a grin.

The last months have worn us out. Despite this, when we are far away from Coruscant, we're home to each other. I hate to admit it, but this makes me want to stay.

His presence is toxic, every moment we spend together makes me want more. This scares me. Often, running away is all I can do.

At moments, it seems that he plays with me like a cat with its prey, both conscious and unconscious of what he does to me. Still, at the end of the day, here is where I want to be; under the same roof, safe and sound, rolling my eyes to his whining.

I shake my head and try to get back to my writing.

"It surely must be a complicated report. It's taking you forever."

The rain noise on the tent roof forces us to raise our voices.

"Why don't you take care of it, for once?"

"Bureaucracy is not my thing, you know. And I don't want to rob you of something you find so funny. You keep smiling."

I can't find anything sharp to answer back. Anakin stares at me with a questioning look, and I quickly check my shields.

"I really want to get back home," he finally says.

I know far too well what he really means. My stomach gets sick, and I hate myself for this.

"Me too," I do my best to sound light. "There's little left to do here. We will be back to the Temple soon, and we'll try to stay there for a while."

He smiles sadly. "I really must be a boring partner. Always fishing for comfort, for someone to tell me that everything will be ok. And you keep looking after me, a lie after another."

I should say mine are not lies, but, before realising, I'm telling him that he has been my Padawan, and I won't stop taking care of him easily. I really must be tired, I can't trust myself anymore.

It will get better when we're back. I'll ask the Council to split us.

"You know you won't," he says, and I almost choke.

I look away, upset by my lack of self-control and by his unrespectful attitude. We do not mess with each other's thoughts; it's an unspoken pact as old as our relationship.

"I'm sorry. You're always so tight that when something escapes your shields, it's as loud as a shout."

I do not move until that thing that makes my throat pinch washes away. When I turn back to him, my face only shows the baffling serenity of the detached Master. I smile and nod, saying that it doesn't matter, that it was my fault and that you can't totally avoid this when you spend so much time with someone. This is going to make him mad.

"Judging on how the idea of another mission together frightens you, you really can't stand me anymore."

As usual, he gets bitter to mask his wounds. My experience says that it's better to extinguish the fire as soon as possible. "Don't be silly, this is not what I thought. You said it yourself; you can't wait to leave too."

"I hate this planet, but I've never wished to be here with someone else."

For a second, one of my eyebrows raises in disbelief, and I regret it immediately.

"What do you mean with that?" He comes closer, looking down on me as he always does when we argue, since the day he became taller than me.

I keep my eyes steady, but I try to look more resigned than challenging.

"We're tired. Let's stop it here."

"You run away. Typical."

"Anakin, please, it has been a long day. You are the one I trust with my life every day. You are the one I want beside me on the battlefield. This doesn't mean we should stick together all the time. Sometimes it may be better to take a pause, for the both of us. I would appreciate if you could see it too."

If I were someone else, his furious stare would have petrified me. Being me, all I see is his sadness.

"Tell me what that damn mocking face of yours meant."

Things are getting risky, and Anakin has never had enough common sense to realise it. I should quickly find something to satisfy his curiosity remaining on the safe side.

"I only mean that that of your old and boring Master can't possibly be the only company you look for."

He tries to dig for a hidden meaning, but only gets doubts.

I'll never understand how the Chosen One, the Hero Without Fear, can be so clueless to believe that I do not know, that nobody knows.

"You're not old." It's all he manages to say.

"But I'm boring. Goodnight, Anakin."


	2. Chapter 2

I wake up at dawn. It has finally stopped raining and the choking dampness of the day is still to come.

Anakin is knotted in his sheet, snoring lightly. He's the most gifted Jedi I'll ever see, and far taller than me, but is just a boy. War, duty and deaths can't change this.

This melancholic mood does not befit me. I guess it's this planet's fault. All this rain.

There's a message from Windu on the holopad; almost inexpressive, not a word about the successful mission, but he says that a ship is coming for us tomorrow.

We're leaving this place. I expected relief, but all I feel is a noxious weight on my chest.

"Nonsense," I mutter, trying to remember why I was so eager to leave just hours ago.

I must get away from him, of course, as fast as I can. This is what I need but, evidently, not what I want.

I consider waking him up to share the good news. I imagine his smile as he understands that he will see her again soon. I let this hurt me.

"He's not mine," I repeat to myself, exiting the tent. "Has never been."

Outside, the Clone's work is impressive. Despite the mud, the camp is tidy and functional.

Behind the hill, I see the immobile destruction of the battlefield. No more Clones there, dead or alive, only thousands of droids' remains.

I enter the huge common tent where the soldiers are having breakfast. I search their eyes for sorrow, but only find a hint of tiredness.

Rex hands me a food tray and stands by me while I eat.

"You have been working hard this night. The result is incredible."

"Thank you, sir."

"The Council congratulates for the victory and asks us to return. The ship will be here in thirty-six hours."

His smile is so short I'm not even sure it was there. "Roger, sir. Everything will be ready for tomorrow."

As he walks away, I notice Anakin looking around.

I force myself not to hide.

When he finally finds me, he grabs a tray and sits on my bench. He pats my shoulder, saying ''morning' with his mouth already full of food.

I want to dump the heavy load before everything else. "Windu must have been listening to your whines. We leave tomorrow."

He smiles like a child, exactly as I foresaw. I concentrate on not feeling anything.

"I can't believe it. We finally leave this mud ball. You know, I think I've never hated a planet this much, except for Tatooine. Force, after all this rain even the desert looks appealing!" Then, suddenly thoughtful. "Do you think these people will be good without us?"

"We did all we could, now it's up to them. Rain season is about to end, I'm positive about them being able to reconstruct in time for the next harvest."

"Sometimes, I see things this way too. But, most of the time, it all looks meaningless. The war goes on, what we did here counts nothing. We keep filling a leaking bucket."

"We need rest. Everything will be easier when we are home." My words are empty, and he totally ignores them.

"At the same time, I don't want to leave. You can't wait to get rid of me, but I like being on a mission with you. We always lose something on Coruscant."

As usual, he can express what I can't even think. I stare at him, amazed.

"I feel like this too," I say, and keep eating.

I shouldn't have. I feel his puzzled eyes on the back of my head.

"I... Thank you," he mumbles.

It's my turn to be surprised. I raise my eyes to meet his, and abruptly get up. I tell him I have work to do and leave.

Hours pass quickly; a lot to do, and a last-day-of-school atmosphere that makes everything harder to accomplish.

As usual, it's unbearably hot. We hope for it to rain. When it starts showering, it only gets damper. We pray for it to stop. We've been doing this more than once a day, every day.

By late afternoon, we are ready. The soldiers are talking about a party for this evening, so I'm glad they finished their work early. They need time to decompress after the battle, and before leaving.

Wandering outside the camp, I realise I haven't seen Anakin since this morning. It has been like being able to breathe again and suffocating at the same time.

I must do something about this right now, I've been putting it off for too long, but I keep finding excuses.

Anakin is possessive, I tell to myself, he would feel abandoned if I leave him. And this war needs us together. The amazing duo. I can't let my weakness interfere with my duty to the Republic.

Bantha fodder. I'm fooling myself, pretending not to see what scares me most. A thing I can't even name.

I need Anakin. I want to be with him. Something a Jedi should not feel, and I'm not talking about attachment. His presence fogs my mind, his closeness makes me sick for more.

I let his affaire with Padme go on when I could have ended it. I knew it could destroy them both, and I did nothing. I gave myself plenty of reasons, but the flat truth is that I was terrified by my jealousy and wanted to prove myself it wasn't affecting me. I avoided doing the best for him, for them, just to save myself. I'm a coward.

The sun is setting down when I come back.

Around the bonfires, the Clones drink and laugh. I walk by, and they jovially greet me. Their contentment would have been impossible just hours ago.

I eat with them, trying to enjoy the warm atmosphere. They glance at me often, wondering where Skywalker is, or noticing something out of place in my expression. After a while, I thank them and get back to the tent.

I can't talk sincerely to Anakin, he won't understand. My feelings would hurt him, disgust him. This is not what he wants. He wants me to be there for him, comforting and reassuring, and to turn my head away when he's with her. That's all.

I will not even try the trite speech about the dangers of attachment. It never worked with him, and it will not work this time.

On top of this, I'm not sure the Temple will accept my request. Maybe I should talk to Master Yoda before telling Anakin, just to be sure.

I'm confused to the point that I don't know anymore if my thoughts make sense or are just new excuses.

The tent is dark and empty. I sit on the bed, thinking this is the last night we spend together. Part of me still hopes we could go on like this, without any change. I might bury what I feel and pretend it doesn't exist.

When Anakin arrives, I'm seriously considering this.

He's dirty and messy, but his eyes shine. His Signature glares, electric and expectant.

"Where have you been, for Force's sake?" He asks. "After a whole day at the infirmary, I had to spend more than an hour looking for you."

"Meditating. You could use it too, you know." Despite all my efforts to seem cheerful, I only sound worn out.

He looks at me, his head tilted. "You're not in a good mood."

"I'm just tired."

"This will help." He takes a dark bottle from the backpack behind his bed. "Ambassador's gift. She said it were precious and recommended saving it for the right occasion and person."

"You know what? I prefer not to know what you did to merit such a gift from her."

"And I prefer not to tell." Anakin grins, and I must look somewhere else.

He sits next to me and pulls off the cork. "I thought brooding was my own prerogative."

"I'm sorry, Anakin. I'm not in the mood."

"I can't drink alone. Come on, Master: last night together!"

He puts his lips on the bottle neck. I am hypnotised.

Then, he cleans his mouth with the back of his hand and gives me the bottle. It's sweet, something that Coruscanti would drink with a dessert.

"Drink with me or be questioned about what's going on until you tell me. You decide."

I wait for the alcohol to warm my chest before talking. "I was serious about asking for different missions next time."

"I know you were. Only, I don't understand why you always feel the need to hurt me."

He's staring at me, and I get up because I can't stay so close to him anymore.

I'm weak, muddled, and fear I won't be able to say the right thing. I can't even remember what the right thing was.

"You know I do not want to hurt you," I mutter.

He takes my hand. "Stay, please. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

I know how difficult it is for him to ask, so I let him pull me back on the bed, our shoulders touching. We keep on drinking in silence.

It's a terrible idea, and I know it, but I don't move because after tonight I will not have Anakin's exclusive for a long time. He won't look at me this way anymore, he won't beg me to stay.

When the bottle is empty, he talks again, staring at his dirty boots, "It was all so simple, between us." There's nothing I can say, so I let him go on. "I'm getting drunk and melancholic while I promised to cheer you up and stop talking about depressing stuff. I'm sorry."

I desperately want to hug him, the way I would have when he was a kid. I just whisper that it's okay.

I try to fill the silence because it feels dangerous. "I don't think we've ever been drunk together, have we?"

"I can't believe you forgot Kato Nemoidia," he answers, deadly serious.

When we laugh, we are the same we used to be.

"You were the drunk one, I was perfectly lucid. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come up with a brilliant plan like that."

"You were drunker than me! You wouldn't have the guts to propose _that_ to me if you were sober."

Our smiles slowly fade. He says that he misses this, that he misses us.

"You know I will always be here for you." It's my Master voice talking, and this only makes him angry.

"Can't you be honest, for once?" Anakin grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "Do you still know how to you be yourself, or are you going to play the conscientious Master, the kriffing perfect Jedi forever?"

He feels so vulnerable, almost desperate as he wreaks himself over my shields.

"I only try to be the Jedi I should be. You can't blame me for this."

"Do that with everybody else, not with me. Why build a wall like this? What did I do to desert you to the point that you can't talk to me anymore? You can't even look at me."

"You can't really believe this. You are an exceptional Jedi, and I couldn't be prouder of you."

He closes his eyes, as to let my words sink in. "When I'm not using my lightsaber I'm a terrible Jedi. We both know."

"Anakin, we all fight to follow the path the Force shows us. None of us is perfect, what matters is the effort we put to overcome our weaknesses. If I seem distant is just because I don't want you to witness mine. I don't want you to be disappointed by me. I'm sorry if I've ever hurt you doing this."

"You have never been disappointing." He places a hand on the back of my neck and makes our foreheads touch. "There will never be a man I consider more."


	3. Chapter 3

"Talk to me, Obi-Wan. Please."

He waits, his hand firm on my neck. His breath smells of sun-dried grapes.

"What I feel scares me," I finally say, barely audible.

Anakin moves slightly forward and lets his lips touch mine, making it look like the most natural thing in the world. Before realising, I'm kissing back.

He opens his mouth, his tongue searching for mine, and it's so strange, yet so simple. His hands are under my clothes, on my waist.

Our kiss gets messy as we want to devour each other. When we part, we gasp for air.

I let him take off his tunic and mine, and can't stop staring at his body. I know it better than mine, but it looks new now. I'm mesmerised by his skin and his scars.

Anakin gently pushes me down on the bed, then bends over me to kiss my neck. His mouth traces a wet trail from my chest to my stomach.

I must end this now, or I won't be able to. I grab his shoulders to stop him, but he thinks - or pretends to - I want him to come back to my lips. As he does this, his erection brushes mine through our clothes; the husky sound he emits makes me tremble.

My body moves independently from my mind. I push my hip against his, my hands on his back. I'm a moth, desperate for the flame that will be its death.

His flesh hand is already in my trousers when I manage to seize his wrist and whisper 'stop'.

"No," he answers in my mouth, twisting his arm to get free.

"Please," I whimper. I can't tell anymore if I'm begging him to stop or to go on.

I stop breathing when he takes me in his hand. He moves his left around me while his durasteel one slips lower.

I hold on to the sheet as it was the only thing that could save me from drowning.

Anakin sits up and removes our remaining clothes, looking extremely focused, as approaching a wild animal that should not be startled. He is touching himself now, and this is just too much.

I slide down an ice slope, every second that passes reduces my chances to stop.

He kneels at the end of the bed. I feel his breath, his lips on me. When I'm inside his mouth, I cry his name and must use all of my remaining willpower not to thrust.

Still slowly moving his mouth around me, he bends my legs and starts using his hand and his saliva. Soon, his fingers move inside me, melting an unknown lump of pleasure, making my back arch.

Behind my shut eyelids, I see her in my same position under him, moaning. I can't tell if this image comes from his or my mind, but my hand is on his head now, driving him against my body, and I can't believe what I'm doing.

Through our loose shields, I sense his desire growing. I wonder how much of what I feel he perceives - I'm vulnerable, uncovered, and it's not something I'm used to.

Anakin gets up, slides his forearms under my knees and pushes against me, demanding. He cries softly as my body painfully tightens around him. When he starts slowly moving, our Bond shows me his desire, his intense effort to restrain himself.

"Do it," I hear myself say, my mind not in charge anymore.

Anakin, for the first time in his life, does what he's asked and starts following his pace. It's like a river that breaks the banks. He thrust roughly, holding himself at my hips.

We get lost in each other, our Signatures mixed, our minds blended. We stop being two, not know anymore where our borders are; terrifying, if only we were lucid enough to realise.

Both my body and my mind sense his pleasure when he reaches his apex, and this pushes me over the edge. Electricity flows from my legs to my spine in long waves.

* * *

 _check my Ao3 (Alcalina) for the fanart that goes with this_


	4. Chapter 4

We lie side by side on the bed, sweated, waiting for our heartbeats to slow down.

For a moment, I experience unrestrained happiness. Inconceivable happiness.

 _This shouldn't have been. I am an idiot._

He interrupts my thoughts. "Whoa. Frightening!"

I can't believe it. Anakin remains Anakin, no matter what. I sigh as he continues, "You warned me against this when I was twelve."

I can only follow the path he is tracing. "What? The dangers of fucking your own Master?"

He chokes on his laughter. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, language, please! Yeah, you somehow warned me against this too, even if younger you was way more polite. I mean you said that we must preserve our individualities as a strong Bond is not an excuse to annihilate oneself."

He sits up on the bed to show me his best tedious Master impression. "Raise your shields, young one."

"I assure you that this wasn't the circumstance I was thinking of."

"Maybe I was! As you said to heartbroken teenage me, 'it is not unusual for a Padawan to have a crush on his Master, at some point. It passes in time'."

"I can't believe you were listening to my words."

I really said all of this, guiltily omitting that Masters may have crushes too.

I feel his gaze on me, and keep my eyes on the ceiling.

"You are panicking," he states.

"No, I'm not. No reason to panic. Sex is sex. Nothing worth talking about."

"Sex."

"Yes."

"This is what we had."

"So it seems."

"And you have this casual attitude about it. And you are not panicking at all."

I do not respond.

"Effectively, I always imagined you would have made more resistance. In my thoughts, you were all 'no! Ani! Stop! We can't!'"

"It amazes me that you had such a detailed fantasy about it. Good thing I surprised you."

"I've never been so surprised in my whole life."

I want to say that surprise is not even near to what I feel. I'm not like this, my body and feelings do not rule my mind. I do not allow it.

"What's that face for?" He asks.

I am quick enough to find something to answer. "I'm thinking of that time my Master had the 'sex talk' with me, years before I actually had sex with anyone. He explained quite explicitly many things; anatomy, contraceptive methods, how to pleasure a woman, bed etiquette. I stared at my feet the whole time, blushing furiously. He certainly wasn't coy, and he couldn't understand my embarrass. I suspect he even enjoyed it a little. I wanted to bury myself in the ground, moreover as I had a colossal crush on him at the time. 'Be a gentle lover,' he said 'worry about your partner first'. I'm afraid that today I haven't been able to follow any of his teachings."

"Don't be. I can't complain."

I concentrate not to blush as teenage me would have.

"You never had the sex talk with me. I would have loved it. I too enjoy embarrassing you."

"You gave the impression that you were the one that could have taught me something."

All of this is going to end soon; his closeness, his naked body beside mine, even our awkward jokes.

I long to touch him, to hold him. Instead, I do nothing, we just let our shields come back, the distance between us growing each moment. When he exits this tent tomorrow, there will be nothing left. Deep in my heart, I know that what happened tonight might destroy all we have together.

"Now, go to your bed, have some sleep."

"You know I won't. I can't understand why you bother asking."

"This is a bunk bed, and we are two grown men, Anakin. I'm uncomfortable and hot."

His eyes squint mischievously. "Yeah, I see. Absolutely uncomfortable and definitely hot."

"Not funny."

"It is, shut up."

He rests his head on my chest and falls asleep shortly after.

When I wake up, my arm is numb from Anakin's weight on it. Someone is moving outside the tent, it must be morning already.

For a moment, I wonder how it's possible that we are naked and entwined into the same bed. For the second time in few hours, an absurd happiness pervades me like a fever.

His body is sweated and hot against mine, and I cannot imagine another place where I'd rather be. His hair sticks to his forehead. I just want to move them away and kiss him.

I take a deep breath and slide away.

He turns to the other side with a moan.

I'm fastening my belt when I see he's awake and intent on me, supporting himself on one of his elbows.

"'Good morning, Master." His sleepy voice makes me desperately want to return to bed.

"Get dressed," I say instead. "There's a lot to do, and we have a meeting with Rex at ten."

He stares at me. "Really?"

"Really."

"Usually, I'm the one who runs away, the morning after."

"I'm not running away. You are making it a bigger deal than it is."

"If you are so nonchalant about sex with your former Padawan, why don't you come back here and have some more?"

"Anakin, the fact that we can have sex does not mean we should."

"I knew it couldn't be so easy."

I massage my eyes. Why he never stops when he can? Couldn't he help me save what can still be saved and keep that mouth closed, for once?

"Trust me, it couldn't be easier. See you there." I take advantage from being the only one dressed and make my way out.

I sense his anger from the other side of the camp.

He's right, I'm running away. My excuse is that we need time to cool down and reflect. At least, this is what I will do. I doubt that Anakin's plans for the morning are the same as mine.

I spend the rest of the day avoiding him. To tell the truth, there's no real need to do that, as he seems to be ignoring me too.

During the meeting, we do our best not to look or talk to each other. Rex moves his gaze from one to another, perplexed.

I was lying, there's little left to do. I just wander around the camp, caking my boots with mud for the last time, saying goodbye to this planet and being quite useless and confused. Among the other things, I feel guilty. Such a familiar feeling when I think about Anakin.

I felt guilty when we first met, for being jealous of him. Then, when Qui-Gon died, for not being enough as a Master. Now, for my attachment. For wanting him. For failing him. I am the one who should have known better.

Hours later, we meet again in the chaos of hundreds of Clones embarking. We exchange an edgy look, then he disappears in the operation room to annoy the Commander, as he always does as soon as he gets on board.

We have a whole day of travel ahead, we can't just hide from each other. I must talk to him in the right way, and do my best to clarify things.

Negotiating a treaty with a herd of Banthas would be easier.

Anakin considers what has happened between us his victory. I know he totally sees it this way. He craves for absolute possession, the only form of love he can conceive. He tried everything during his Padawan years to make me his personal property, now he finally feels he managed to own me.

He won't let go of his conquest without fighting and he won't be reasonable. It's always all or nothing for him.

We have dinner at the officials' table, sit side by side, our elbows almost touching. We answer their questions and laugh when appropriate.

For a moment, I'm proud of him overcoming his anger and being able to behave, instead of brooding in a corner. I know how hard it is for him.

 _Stang, will I ever stop being his teacher and judging every move he makes?_

After an infinite time spent talking nonsense, we finally meet outside our cabin. Anakin half smiles, opening the door for me. I feel like a fly caught in the web.

"I don't know what to say," I start, as we awkwardly stand in the middle of the room.

"It would be the first time in your life." He doesn't leave me the time to answer back. "What we had yesterday shook me from foundations. It has been the most intense experience I've ever shared with anyone. You want to pretend nothing happened. This is absurd."

What am I supposed to say? My throat tightens with the need to shout out that I feel the same.

Nothing is easy with Anakin, ever. He won't stop until we say things we'll come to regret and everything becomes a total mess.

"It wasn't the most brilliant idea we've ever had, but there's nothing more to do or say about it. It doesn't define our relationship in any way, it's just something that happened."

"So, why do you think it was such a terrible idea if it's not going to change anything?"

Sometimes, I believe that he hasn't paid attention to a thing I've said in my whole life. All that time wasted talking about foreseeing the consequences of your words and actions. I make my mistakes too but, at least, I'm aware of where they lead.

"Do you really need me to explain why we shouldn't have sex?"

"I'm sick and tired of your diplomacy, Negotiator. Lay it down."

This is going to be a disaster.

* * *

 _If you're enjoying this story, please consider leaving a vote or a comment._

 _I'm working really hard on it, and your words are my only rewards._ _They will keep me going._

 _Thank you_

 _Alcalina_

 _ps English is not my language. Be patient, please._


	5. Chapter 5

His eyes sparkle this way when he wields a lightsaber, with anticipation, knowing that he is going to win the fight. I've witnessed the effect this look has on weaker opponents; surrender suddenly appears as a perfectly reasonable alternative.

I know because I feel the same, right now. In spite of all his confidence, it's obvious that tonight we will both be defeated, and I ponder the possibility of just giving up. I envision myself pinning him against the immaculate wall of the cabin, making his lips sore.

 _Oh, Anakin, what have you done to me?_

I turn toward the small viewport, looking for inner balance. I will do what I must.

"A Bond like ours is as powerful as it is dangerous," I say. "Be honest; we barely handle it. We rely on it way too much, it has become something we can't renounce. We get every day more dependent on each other. There's no need to aggravate this with sex."

Surprisingly, he takes some time to reflect on my words before answering. "I do not agree. We learnt to handle our Bond, over the years. We can find a way to control this too. We won't let it devour us."

"These things always cause more problems than they solve. There's a reason if the training Bond is severed when it is no longer essential."

"Nevertheless, you decided to spare ours." The silence between us grows thick. We never talk about this. "All this time, I've been afraid to break the spell just mentioning it. It saved our lives during this war, more than once. We need it. I need it."

"I believed this too. Now I see saving it has been an error. A weakness. What we have is too prone to become an addiction, and it's a certain font of attachment."

I can't see him, but I sense his Force Signature snapping.

"Attachment! You actually said that." His voice is cold but subtly trembles with rage, like lava covered in ice. "Can't you see that we are already attached? We've always been, since the night we watched Qui-Gon's burning pyre. Would you really choose the Republic or even the kriffing Jedi Order over me?"

His question burns with anger, but I see the plea hidden in it.

I put a hand on the cold glass and close my eyes. "Would you choose her over me?"

I feel Anakin gasping, losing the ground under his feet. All that he finally manages to say is that he loves us both.

"You love neither of us," I reply. "You want me to be someone that I am not, and you cheated on her."

"It's not like this! She knows that I love you and that what we have is different. It wasn't cheating."

"I strongly doubt she would agree."

I'm nauseous from what he is saying, and I am not sure why. I only know that we're a wreck and that I want back what we had before, all our lies and secrets.

He makes me turn. His touch burns me through my clothes. His eyes are so sad, so needy.

"Please, Anakin, don't try this. I can't give you what you are asking."

"I know," he whispers on my neck, his cheek brushing on my beard. "But I want it anyway."

Then, he says that he loves me - 'so much' - kissing me, making me want to die.

I push him away, and it's like being torn apart.

"This his not love," I rant "You don't care if you hurt us both, as long as we remain yours. Attachment, friendship, love, sex; only instruments to keep us tied to you. You never worry about consequences. You can't tolerate death because it steals your owning."

He takes a step back, astonished. His lips part and close again. The dark flame in his eyes grows menacing.

Suddenly, I find myself pinned against the wall by his Force push, my feet twenty centimetres from the floor, a parody of the reverse situation I imagined just moments before. My throat tightens in his invisible grip for long seconds, as his voice in my head shouts that I know nothing. When he releases me, I lay on my knees, coughing, eyes wet from lack of air.

He stares at his trembling hands in shock, even if they were not the ones that did this to me.

"I suppose this means I hit too close to home," I say, my sarcasm totally out of place.

He just stays there, shivering.

 _I know what I've seen, I just can't accept it_.

He's thinking of running away, now, and I'm tempted to let him go. I want him out of here because I don't know what to do with the turmoil in my chest.

He has deliberately hurt me. My thoughts curl spirally around this concept, over and over again.

Our lives revolve around the faith we have on each other. Apparently, if you take it away from the equation, everything else collapses.

I let jealousy, lust and rage drive me, and this is the result. I failed to protect him from himself.

"You ok?" His hesitant words take me back.

I will not be ruled by my feelings anymore, my weakness ends now. I'll be the Jedi, the person I want to be. I will be who he needs me to be.

"I am, Anakin. I am afraid that you are not."

His eyes widen, my smooth, calm tone surprises him. He says that he is sorry.

"I know, I'm too," I answer. "Let me help, will you?"

"I... No. I'll take care of this, I swear. It won't happen again."

I keep thinking about the dark flame in his eyes. I know what I've seen. I've known for a long time it was there, and I haven't been able to take it away. Maybe I am the one who had put it there.

"If you want to help, stop talking about it," he continues. "I'm sorry about everything. To be honest, I am sorry about everything I have ever done in my life. I will meditate, and I will even talk to Master Yoda. Everything's okay. Stop worrying."

"I'd prefer you to talk to me, instead."

"Soon, ok? I need time."

My lips tighten. There's no way to reason with him when he's like this - self-blaming takes all the available space - so I just nod.


	6. Chapter 6

We meet again in the morning, when the ship enters Coruscant's atmosphere. He is on the opposite side of the deck, shouting orders to the men. His face is as tired and grey as mine.

We deboard together. The sight of Ashoka's petite figure waiting outside the spaceport wins a smile from us both. She desperately wants to run and throw her arms around her Master. Instead, she just hops toward us, barely restraining herself, making me remember how much I like her.

She stops a couple of steps from us, squinting suspiciously. "What happened?"

I try to sound reassuring. "We are exhausted, young one. It has been a long time, I'm happy to see you again."

Anakin places a hand between her montrals, gently driving her away. "I missed you, Snips. I will not let them separate us again."

Ahsoka is confused by his weird, serious tone, and searches my eyes for answers. I can just try a half-smile.

"May the Force be with you, Master," she says, looking at me over her shoulder as they leave.

What follows reminds me of a cold soup; reassuring, a bit boring, and not as good as it used to be.

First of all, I reach my quarters. All is exactly where I left it. Is there a better feeling?

I do my best to thoroughly enjoy being home, but the comfort I find is smaller than the one I was expecting.

After the 'fresher, I reach the Council meeting. There, I wait fifteen minutes for Anakin to show up, undergoing other Masters' disdainful looks when it becomes evident that he won't come. Finally, I resolve to hold my summary of our last weeks on my own.

I know where he is, I even know what he's doing. I make an effort not to think about it. I learnt at my expenses that, when we're in Coruscant, it's important to avoid reaching for his Force Signature at all costs. Not consciously, not absentmindedly, not as the result of a habit. Experience tells me that I may not like what I find.

I take my lunch to the gardens and sit on the grass, dwelling in the fogged Coruscant sun I missed so much. After ten minutes, an unmistakable, imposing silhouette shadows it.

"Sit down, old friend. I must dry up my weary bones," I say, a hand protecting my eyes from the sunlight.

Quinlan obeys. "You look terrible. And I mean it."

"Thank you. 'Welcome back' would have sufficed. I didn't know you had already returned."

"I came back and left again while you were away. I've been here for a week now." He takes a look around. "Where's the Chosen One? I want to tell him I took care of his Padawan while he was away."

I almost spit my lemonade.

"No, you nasty one, not like _that_! Nice idea, anyway."

I try to look indignant. "She's too young, and you're disgusting."

"You're the one that implied this first!"

His laughter is full and contagious. I laugh too and say that, if Anakin were here, he would've killed us both.

"I only mean that the poor thing needed a guide, a wise mentor while her Master and her Master's Master were busy playing with mud."

"There are a couple of misleading concepts in your last sentence, especially regarding the wise mentor part."

He punches my arm hard enough to bruise and starts stealing food from my lunchbox.

We look at the flourishing garden, eating in silence. The younglings play around us, their voices blending with the gurgling sound of the waterfalls.

"Are you going to tell me what bit you?" He asks out of nothing.

"You know, too much time with Anakin. If we stay together some more, we'll kill each other." A shiver runs down my spine. "I am asking Master Yoda to split us for a while."

"Seems reasonable. This said, I'm not sure he will agree. You two are on the holonews all the time; men are proud and women faint at the sight of the invincible duo. You are a good product, good publicity. It can make the difference in war time, and he knows this."

"And you know too well what I think of these absurdities. In any case, I have doubts too. The boy is troubled, he might need me."

He seizes me, slowly shaking his dreads. "He's not a boy, nor your burden anymore. You should start worrying about what _you_ need."

"If only I knew what it is," I sigh.

"You need to chill out, laserbrain. Force knows this war is more than enough, you don't have to take the brooding brat's angst on your shoulders all the time. I look after a bunch of freshly knighted boys and girls tonight, they're going out to celebrate. Come with us and have some fun."

"The fact that you're in charge of this is utterly alarming... really, who had the idea?"

"I volunteered."

I theatrically massage my forehead. "As strange as it may seem, babysitting you and some kids together doesn't appeal to me. I arrived a few hours ago and couldn't be more tired. I'll just stay at home with a cup of tea in one hand and a holopad in the other. You could change your plans and join me, instead."

He loudly huffs. "You are the most boring Jedi I've ever met. There are two ladies there that are gorgeous, and of the right age, if this is what keeps you awake at night. One is green, with lekku: she's mine. The other one is blonde, with blue eyes. Exactly your type, if I remember well enough."

The downside of childhood friends; they know too much.

"You are blushing. So sweet. You know what? I don't buy it. I've seen that look on your face a couple of times during our Padawan years. Not the embarrassed one, that's way more common. The heartbroken one. I don't know who she is, but I assure you that coming with me tonight is the best thing you can do."

"Maybe some other day," I say, getting up.

"You know you will not get away with it forever," he replies with a warm smile. "I'm after you."

.

I meet more friends as I walk the Temple corridors. 'Good to see you alive' is the first thing we think, every time. Then, we pat shoulders or exchange an awkward hug. We rarely talk about the war. Just quick info on who's leaving and who's coming back, and vague projects about time to spend together soon.

 _Cold soup._

I go back to my apartment in the late afternoon. The holonews show blurred greenish videos of a battle taking place on a planet of the Outer Rim I've never heard about. Barely intelligible laser blasts and dismembered bodies. After that, a list of recent victories. Ours is in there, just a planet name among the others.

I turn it off and look out of the window, trying to imagine myself clubbing with Quin and his friends. The image I get is hilarious, though I have no problems envisioning him there, and we're the same age.

The city lights shine brightly under the grey sky. My mind goes back to the cloudy, rainy evenings we left behind.

When I fall asleep, I dream of rough sex. Naked limbs, moans and sweat.

It's still dark when I wake up to find out it was a wet dream. Last time, I was fifteen. My body betrays me, and it's irritating.

I wonder what Anakin is dreaming.

Later, in the 'fresher, I hear two loud thumps. I swear, wrap myself in a towel and go open the door.

Quin is there, grinning, left arm around a slender green Twi'lek, right one around a short, blonde human girl. They all seem a bit drunk.

I'm sleepy, half-naked and dripping. I ask myself if this could be one of those nightmares where everything is part of a plot to embarrass you.

The two young Knights giggle, and Quinlan hardly restrains his laugh. "Late night shower or are you trying to impress the girls?"

I glare at him.

He ignores me. "They wanted to meet a real war hero, I just couldn't refuse."

Despite the urge to punch him, I calmly assure the Knights that, as they are already hugging one, there's no need for others.

The human girl straightens herself as much as she can and looks up at me, flushed and doe-eyed. "Master Kenobi, I'm honoured to have the chance to meet you. The admiration I have for you has not equals. You are the Jedi I wanted to be as a child."

I wonder if Quinlan could possibly choke on his laughter.

"Thank you, I appreciate this," I answer. "It's good to be reminded of how old you are, from time to time. Anyway, congratulation to you both on your knighting. Now, please, excuse me while I kill Master Vos."

"It's not his fault!" Almost shouts the Twi'lek, suddenly flustered at her own loud voice. "We wanted to meet you so badly! We tortured him all night."

I take the deepest of the breaths. "Poor Master Vos, it must've been terrible. Well, your wish came true. How lucky. Quinlan, I will make you pay for this. Goodnight."

Closing the door, I have a glimpse of Anakin walking by, directed to his and Ashoka's quarters. He presses his lips together to keep back a smile and salutes me taking his hand to his forehead.

This must definitely be one of those nightmares.


	7. Chapter 7

Next morning mission is to catch Master Yoda. At the Temple, you usually keep stumbling on him. Naturally, when you need him, he is nowhere to be found, and nobody has seen him in ages.

When I'm about to lose my temper, I find him at the Archives, amiably chatting with Master Nu.

What he says when we're alone is - again - that I look tired and that I should rest. He will try to keep me here for a while.

When I talk about Anakin - whether to put a couple of Star Systems between us to avoid mutual dismemberment, or to stay together for the sake of war and Anakin's Dark Side related issues- he states that he can certainly assign us to different missions if this is what we really want.

Then, he admits that Anakin could indeed need a friend by his side in these difficult times; "Complicated your relationship is."

 _To think that I omitted the sex/love/choking part._

Finally, he recommends meditating on the matter of distance; "How far away one must go to escape himself?" (unscrambled version). In two words: you decide.

 _Thank you, Master Yoda._

 _._

After this, I reach Windu at the Council Hall. Formalities, report exchanging, dry opinions on war evolutions. I am leaving when he says, faking a last minute inspiration, that a gala dinner will be held tonight at the Corellian Embassy.

"All those that matter on this planet will be there. They are expecting to see their heroes, and I do not want them to be disappointed. You and Skywalker will attend and keep a discrete eye on the Senators. They are an obvious target when they are all together outside the Senate. Especially Organa and Amidala; their opposition to the war is exposing them, many suspects them to be disguised Separatists. Coruscant temperature has become sensibly higher while you were away."

'Can't wait.' I think, answering that it will be done.

.

When I get home, I find Ashoka sitting on the pavement outside my door, looking troubled. She starts talking the moment I turn the corner, making me think she could have been preparing her speech for a while.

"Master. Sorry to disturb you. May we have a word when possible, please?"

"You are not a disturb, I am more than happy to help if I can." I open the door, raising my eyebrows, and signal her to enter. "It's noon, do you mind if I cook lunch for the both of us while you talk? You can set the table."

"I... Ehrm... No. I mean yes. Of course I can. Thank you, Master."

I stare at the cupboard, thinking of something quick to prepare with the little food I have.

"I don't know where to begin," Ahsoka says. "I'm so sorry to bother you."

"You have already said that. No problem. Go on," I answer, working at the counter.

She remains silent, sitting on the edge of the dining table chair, her hands under her thighs. I decide not to push her.

"It's about Anakin," she finally reveals. "I have only spent a few hours with him since he came back but... He's so strange, tense... Stares at the wall as I talk to him. Leaves the room in the middle of a sentence. When he pays attention, is only to yell at me. I don't understand what's happening."

"Have you tried asking him?"

"He told me that my Master's private life is not my business."

"I can't disagree, Ashoka."

She sighs. "You're right. I just don't know how to handle it. Maybe there's something I can do. Maybe I have done something wrong. I keep messing things up."

"A good Padawan like you shouldn't talk like this. I assure you it's not your fault," I say, placing our hot dishes on the table.

She thanks me for the meal with a full mouth and big eyes.

I don't want her to go away like this, I want to say something that could help.

"You know, I remember being worried about my Master's mood all the time; always afraid to be a burden, the origin of all his problems."

"I bet you were a good Padawan too, yet you shared my fears."

"I believed I was not enough and I was wrong. He cared for me, this is what Masters do. You can't train anyone if you don't. Anakin was a difficult Padawan, in some ways, but I've never... I deeply cared for him. Always."

"You still do."

"I still do, Ashoka. The way I care for you. This is not forbidden."

She looks away, trying to hide that this has moved her.

"C'mere, little one." I give her a quick but tight hug. "There's nothing wrong with you."

I've never done something like this with him, I've never said that I cared. I'm getting too sentimental.

"I know it can't all be my fault, but sometimes it's hard to remember." She stops to look at her feet. "I shouldn't say this but... You feel different too."

Ahsoka wants to say that she knew something was wrong between us the moment we got down that ship. She doesn't dare, though, so she bites her lip instead.

"Everything's okay, stop worrying," I whisper.

Same words Anakin said to me.


	8. Chapter 8

I arrive as late as my compulsive punctuality allows me to.

The Great Hall is already crowded. The Negotiator shakes hands and smiles while the General checks ways out and security's weak points.

If I were a terrorist, this would be the perfect place. A thermal detonator there, and goodbye Senate. It surely would hit tomorrow holonews.

What is worst, I don't even know if I should fear more a Separatists' strike or a Republic fanatics' one. Windu is right; all is going crazy. Despite this, these people keep on drinking, laughing and playing politics as they've always done. To them, war is just a word to convince others of their reasons.

Last months made me bitter. It's not my job to judge this.

I notice Padme's massive hairdo not far from me. She's passionately talking with a bunch of Senators, moving hands with grace to underline her words. Her audience is absorbed, equally fascinated by her speech and by her beauty.

I feel like Bantha shit just looking at her.

Finding Anakin is easy. He stands ten steps away, hands laced behind his back, eyes on her.

I must be absorbed too because Organa's voice makes me wince. "Terrific, isn't she?"

He must have been following my gaze.

"She's as beautiful as she's intelligent," I answer, stroking my beard.

"We all lost our head over her, at some point. Anyway, when did you arrive? I've heard that the Campaign has been successful."

"It's true though it took more than expected; we came back just a couple of days ago. Coruscant has changed in my absence."

"Indeed, tense atmosphere. In spite of this, many insist on keeping their eyes closed. They will realise there's a war only when it will come to their doormat."

Organa goes on talking, but I'm not listening anymore because Anakin's smile is making my stomach flip.

He reaches us and coldly greets Organa, his eyes obstinately fixed on mine. "I recommend not hanging around with Master Kenobi, Senator. He steals all the girls."

A withering silence before Organa receives the message.

"I will follow your advice, I can't afford the risk," he says before leaving.

"You've been rude," I whisper when we're alone.

"Who cares, I can't stand that prick. Did you talk to Yoda?"

"Did you?"

His hand moves nonchalantly. "What did he say, are you leaving me?"

"It's not about leaving you, you know."

"But are you?"

Anakin stands too close, invades my personal space to affirm himself, or just because he knows the effect his presence has on me. He feels that he has lost ground last time we talked, therefore, will do all he can to overcome me.

Padme got free from her fellows and is coming to us. She takes my hands in hers affectionately.

"Obi-Wan, how long!" Then, taking a step back to seize me. "You look so..."

I manage to interrupt her, "Please, don't say that."

For a moment, she's surprised by my afflicted tone, then amused. "I won't. I promise".

Her smile would melt stone, and I dearly wish I was somewhere else.

Anakin's grin, on the other side, is ghastly. He's enjoying my embarrass and her blindness too much.

"Don't let him fool you, Padme, he just likes playing the decrepit wise Jedi. You should've seen him partying hard under his doorframe, last night."

She knows this is an inside joke she's not supposed to share, and plays it cool. "Good for him. You only are jealous because you've not been invited."

"I'm guilty of having too much fun without Anakin," I say. "In my defence, I object that I would have invited him, if only he had been around."

With this, we call it even. I don't want to be in this game anymore, though, and demand to be excused.

I can't breathe, so I don't stop until I'm out on the balcony.

I must leave this party, leave the planet, consume myself on the battlefield or anywhere else. It's just self-preservation, nothing more. All I am risks to get sucked up into the black hole that is Anakin; run now or be destroyed. If I stay to help him not to succumb to himself -admitting this to be possible - it will be at the cost of my true self.

Despite understanding all of this so clearly, my need for him is overwhelming.

"Are you ok?"

The blonde Knight from last night, sit on the bannister. I'm dazed to the point that I haven't noticed her.

"I am. Thank you." My calm voice surprises myself once more.

"I'm sorry for last night," she continues. "Things slipped out of control at some point... I'm Shaali, anyway."

"No need to be sorry, I know how Quinlan can be. Will you excuse me? I'm going back."

"Back inside?"

"To the Temple."

She hugs herself and inspires loudly. "You are sick of all of this."

This is not a question. I raise my eyebrows, and Shaali bites her lip, wishing she hadn't said that. In the dim light, I see that she's slightly blushing.

"To think that I've always been accused of being unfathomable," I say. "See, even childhood heroes have flaws. We shouldn't place anyone on a stand."

"Your humbleness only confirms my beliefs."

The girl is forgetting to breathe.

I'd like to say that it's good to be on the other side, for once, but empathy prevails on flattery by large.

"Go inside, young one. See you at the Temple."

The shock wave caused by the detonation shatters window glass all over us. The sound is so loud that my ears stop working, the vibration feels like a punch in the stomach. Shaali jumps down the bannister and ignites her blue lightsaber, ready to run inside. I stop her and move my lips to form the word 'wait'.

All we see of the hall is darkness, smoke and dust; sporadic lightsaber and blaster flashes.

"Can you hear me?"

She nods.

"Disengage, your weapon only makes you a target. Use mind, not eyes. And cover your nose with your robe."

We take a step in, trying to understand what's happening. The heart of the commotion seems to be where the buffet table was. I resist the urge to look for Anakin's Signature and concentrate on guiding us through the fog. We walk along the walls, unnoticed in the chaos of panicked people running.

Soon, we're close enough to see; blood all over the floor, I count five smashed bodies. Shaali kneels to help two wounded men that are crawling away, and I lose sight of her.

A dozen of Jedi circle a man holding an Ithorian female. He's alone, his partner lies lifeless at his feet, a long lightsaber wound across his chest. The way he restrains his hostage and the look on his face make me think that he has no idea of what he's doing. His plan is to kill her and shoot himself or let us kill him.

"Let her go," calmly says Windu. "It's over."

"Your weapons down or she dies!" He shouts.

Jedi don't move.

I drop mine on the floor and kick it at him, showing my empty hands. I have his attention now.

"Asking is enough. What else?"

"You will take me to the-" I use the Force to make his blaster fly from his hand to mine.

The moment he understands what's happening, he tries to snap his hostage's neck. Before he can do anything, Windu severs his head from his body with a precise, elegant gesture.

After this, we count losses and try to find a sense. Two Senators and two Embassy workers died; four civilians and a Jedi have been wounded by the explosion.

The assaulters were just loose cannons. Apparently, two crazy guys with the right knowledge and enough suicidal instinct can smug weapons and a detonator in an Embassy. Bringing down the Republic Senate is easier than it seems.

We should consider ourselves lucky that their explosive supplies were limited.

"Nice episode of 'Obi-Wan saves the day', I love that show," says Anakin when we meet again, in the chaos that follows.

"People died. It's not funny."

"A joke surely won't hurt them." He picks something from my eyebrow. "Glass splinter, you are bleeding. Go to the Healer, or you'll get a scar. And don't make that face."

.

Silence and shadows await me at home. I do not bother turning the lights on and throw myself on the couch, shamelessly kicking my boots in a corner. This would have earned Anakin a lecture.

Life has come to resemble a holoviewer show, something that's not happening for real and only gets me mildly involved. I'm just a detached bystander, all I feel is muffled as if coming from some distant place.

I cover my eyes with an arm and reach for the Force. It's still there, warm and comforting. I let my thoughts come, I watch as they pass without judging, and then I let them go. Images of the day slowly fade, until there's nothing but the Force itself, the only thing that's real. It pulses with a rhythm that is my own, and I get lost in it.

I sense Anakin far before he knocks at my door. He isn't hiding, he wants me to know he's coming.

'Let's talk to your place,' I should say, 'where Ahsoka is sleeping next door.'

How revealing. I just let him in.

"I've been an idiot this evening," he says first thing, like I needed more apologies. "It's always the same. I can't wait to see you for days and, when we're finally together, I behave like an annoying child."

He heaves a sigh. "I've thought about what you said, and you're right; losing people I love terrifies me. I end up making stupid choices when this is happening. Terrible choices. The thought that I've hurt you is devastating. I don't want to be this person anymore, but I don't know how. How am I supposed to lose you without fighting? I'm not proud of who I am, but I won't permit you to say again that I do not love you."

"Nice speech, Anakin," I answer, holding my elbows. "Though this isn't how it works. Your problem is not losing me, nor the way you give in to your instincts. It's that you believe that you're right. You say that you condemn your actions, yet you're convinced that biting around like a rabid Anooba is the only reasonable way to respond to what you interpret as a menace."

I stop to evaluate his reaction; he clearly was expecting something different. "Do you really assume that saying that I am right and that you love me would solve everything?".

"What would?"

"You must stop thinking that the Galaxy owes you what you want, especially people. Your rage origins from this belief."

Anakin sits on the couch, running his flesh hand through his hair.

At least, he seems to be reflecting on my words. At least, I'm not getting choked.

I turn to the kitchen counter and make him some tea. I remember all the times I did this for him when we lived here together. Hundreds of slightly different images of him grabbing the hot mug from my hands, as he grows up from a child, to a teenager, to a man. Excited, frightened, angry, sad.

"Same troubled child, same caring Master," he says when I hand him the drink.

But we're not the same, and we'll never be. Anakin is slipping through my fingers day after day, I just can't keep hold.

He looks around. "I've always liked this flat. It seemed huge when I came here for the first time, too much for a slave boy from Tatooine. Now, I see it's small and cosy."

"Yours is not different from mine."

"Yeah, you wish. I'm afraid that Ashoka and I will never be half as tidy as you are. We're a destructive force, together. Yours, on the other hand... Everything is so Obi-Wan here that I might stay and dwell in the illusion of you all day."

We remain silent, chasing memories.

Then, he bores his eyes in mine. "Say that you love me."

I obey, and it's easier than I thought.

His smile fills the room. It lights its corners, warms the air. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Go home. Kiss your Padawan on her forehead and go to bed. Let the Force wash this away. Let go, Anakin."

He warms his hands around the mug, pondering. "Is this what you want?"

"I want you to find balance. To be happy. This is all I've always wanted."

He gets up and comes closer, a step from me. "I want to do what you're asking, but I can't. There can be no balance without you. You are my centre."


	9. Chapter 9

"Your centre must be inside you. You can't rely on people for this. They aren't permanent."

It's not clear if I'm speaking to him or to myself.

"What is?" Asks Anakin. "If war has taught us anything, is that nothing lasts. Listen, I don't know if I am going to see the end of it, and I don't want to waste more time. Despite your efforts, I'm not even close to the Jedi you are. I yearned to be like you for years. Then, I gave up; I was aiming too high.

To me, breaking rules has always been about risking my place inside the Order, or by you. On the opposite, you follow the Code to remain faithful to who you are, you fight for it every day. You're here to remind us the true meaning of all this, beyond the Order, the Council and all that crap."

I cross my arms and lean against the kitchen counter. Anything I could say would be read as modesty, so I just say that this is the most touching speech to get someone to bed I've ever heard.

He takes a cushion from the couch and throws it to me. "They say _I_ am heartless!"

"I'm far from the man you described," I tell him. "What is true is that I want to be a Jedi and that this requires some fighting. Sometimes I win and sometimes I lose, just like everybody else. To be honest, I'm not doing much good these days."

He stands up, excited. "This is exactly what I'm trying to tell you! You're only responsible for the little good in me, my flaws aren't your fault. Take a step back and try to see it from there. The ways of the Force and the Code don't necessarily coincide; you can respect the former even if you walk away from the latter."

"This is a convenient way to justify your actions."

He makes an impatient gesture. "How could the Force blame what's between us? It put us together, it's responsible for our Bond. It didn't give us attachment, love and desire to prove us, but as a gift we would be ungrateful to refuse. I don't know how to tell you any more. There's no time left, this could be the only chance we have to take what we've been given."

"Lecturing me about the Force. This is a first."

He's so close, stares at my mouth as I talk. "Master, I'll lose my mind if you don't kiss me."

I smile, what else can I do?

My hand ruffles his hair; old, familiar touch, brand new feeling.

I can't remember why I'm resisting him so much so I clasp his locks, tilt his head and kiss him. The ancient gap in my chest fills with warmth.

 _Slow, now. Seize the moment._

Anakin hugs me, trying to feel as much of my body as he can. I push him and he smiles when the back of his head hits the wall.

I explore the shapes of his mouth, licking, tugging. When his hand tries to reach for my belt, I hold it near his head to keep kissing him. I only break contact to take off our tunics.

His gaze follows his hands from my face to my stomach, and lower. His heavy breath makes me shiver with anticipation.

I've let my guard down, and he takes advantage of it. He advances toward my room, forcing me to walk back, making me stumble on the bed. Skin touches skin when he lays on me, and I wonder if I will be able to bear all this. My ears buzz with the pounding of my blood.

Anakin presses me to the mattress, biting my neck, moving his body against mine in a way that makes my head spin.

He's used to conducting this, but I'm not going to let him. I grab his shoulders to tilt our positions so that I sit on him and enjoy what I see; red cheeks, bright eyes, wide dark pupils.

My fingertips follow the contour of his clavicles to the hollow between them; then, his sternum to the edge of the ribs. From there, I draw over the paths of his scars and muscles, amazed at how hairless he is - there's only a thin blond line that goes all the way down from his navel.

Every part of his body contracts at my touch. When I apply the right friction to a nipple, Anakin pushes my hips down against his with a low groan that makes me gasp. His throaty moans equally convey passion and frustration; extorting as many of them as I can becomes my mission. His impatience makes me want to go on forever.

I take off what remains of his clothes, and he drives my hand to him. I realise I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

I think of how I'd move on myself, but the wrist angle is all wrong, and it just feels weird. So, I let the way his lips part, his head tilts back, his fists clench guide me. The idea that I'm the one causing all these is almost painful.

When it's too much, Anakin moves my hand away with a loud sigh. He sits up to undress me, and takes us together in his hands.

I close my eyes and consciously lower my shields, trying to actively guide the flow through our Bond. He follows, gradually allowing me in until we can feel each other as a whole.

The mutual sensation is overwhelming. I feel his pleasure and his need, as he feels mine. Moreover, I sense the shapes of his inner self; his love and emotions. This enthrals me completely.

I turn him to lay on his stomach and perceive his surprise. He's struggling between his instinct to take the control back and the temptation to let me lead.

I lean to reach the night table where I find a Bacta salve that was there for entirely different purposes. I use it on him and me as well. Then, I bite his shoulder, rubbing myself on his body. When I penetrate him, it's painful for us both.

"Kriff," cries Anakin. "Don't stop,"

I move with slow, deep thrusts that make him whine each time.

What I feel and what he feels echo in an infinite loop inside us. We rapidly cease to retain the little control we've had over our Bond. Soon, we're lost again in each other's sensations, not sure anymore of who is feeling what.

Our orgasms resonate together, one amplifying the other like two cords that vibrate to the same frequency.

.

'Everything is different, everything is the same,' I consider, collapsed over my former Padawan.

All is happening at the same moment; Anakin climbs this bed after a nightmare, gifts me his braid, whines after a tedious lesson, lays naked in my arms. This room, the people in it, always identical.

Anakin's right, we may seem different, but we're the same we were the first night we spent here together; a lonely, frightened child, and a sad, inexperienced boy.

 _Nothing changes, ever_.

"You heavy."

I kiss him behind his ear. "I can't move right now."

He pokes me with his elbow. "Not joking."

I slide on my side and spoon him, breathing his hair, savoring his scent. "Shut up for a while, will you?"

Anakin chuckles and draws my arm over him.

.

When I wake up, his head is on my pillow and his eyes on me. "This isn't the first time I watch you sleeping, you know."

"This is... _creepy_?"

He laughs. "I see you're not the romantic type. I'm just a one-night stand, used and thrown away."

"Poor, poor Anakin." I stroke his face. "So smooth. Will you ever be able to grow a beard or are you going to be a kid forever?"

"I'll grow one the day you'll cut yours."

"As to say never... What time is it?"

I only get a kiss as an answer.

"Must go, Anakin. Things to do."

"This excuse only works once. You screwed me over last time, you're not going anywhere."

"One could say that I screwed you _this_ time."

He snorts and kicks me under the sheets. "Apparently, sleeping with you unlocks your dirty talking. Good to know; swearing suits you better than you think."

"Your bad influence is to be blamed for this."

A comm buzzes. I stumble down the bed to search our clothes on the floor. Anakin makes no effort to conceal that he's staring.

"Yes," I answer when I finally find it.

On the other side, there's a confused Ahsoka. "Master... Obi-Wan? I must've called the wrong comm."

Anakin giggles and I must put a hand on the receiver before talking again. "No, this is Anakin's. We must have switched them by mistake last night, at the Embassy. Try calling him on mine."

Then, I hang up because Anakin is dying from laughs. "She'll go crazy trying to figure this out. You should've heard your voice! Not to talk of your face! The Negotiator should find a remedy to his blushing..."

I throw the comm to his shoulder.

He dodges it and grabs my arm to pull me back on the bed. "I was serious. Don't move. I'm not done with you."

Is my comm's turn to start buzzing. I hand it to Anakin with a grave look.

"Good morning, Snips, _indeed_ ," he says, wickedly grinning at me, a hand firm on my chest to prevent attempted escapes. "No, don't wait for me. Heeeavy day... Yeah, I know, Obi-Wan will get mad if I don't give it back quickly. See you."

He tosses the device away, ignoring my complaints. "You see, I didn't say 'I'm screwed' or 'Obi-Wan will screw me'. I'm behaving myself."

"I'm impressed."

"I'm too." He kisses me roughly, making things happen to my groin. "You're not who I thought you were, Master Kenobi. I'm not saying I don't like it... Only, you should learn you're not going to win every time."

He reaches down to me, and I can't keep back a choked sound.

"You already won. I just gave up," I murmur, and this is true in many ways.

Both his mouth and his hand are slow and languid now. He keeps breaking our kiss, making me long for more and then kissing me again.

I manage to think of how strange this is. Sex has never been my weak point, this is the first time I understand what being driven insane by someone means.

"This is because you've never had it with me before," he answers to my thoughts.

"Oh, shut up Anakin, don't kick who's already down."

I close my eyes, and he does what I didn't know I needed.

"You're so beautiful, turned on and flushed," he whispers in my ear, his voice betraying his arousal. "It kills me that I can make you lose your composure."

'Indeed' I'd like to answer, but my brain has stopped working.

His intent gaze on me is a further form of intimacy, exposes something new when I thought we've already shared everything.

Dreadfully, excruciatingly slow; he takes me near the limit and then slows down again, and again.

"Ask," he orders, and I call his name, begging him to end my thirst.

He doesn't move his eyes from me until the very end.


	10. Chapter 10

I lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling, listening to the shower sound.

The sense of impending doom that has been following me since Geonosis has retired somewhere in the corners of my mind. I'm empty-headed, light. Life still lacks meaning, though this morning I don't care.

Anakin comes and sits on the bed, wet hair dripping over his tunic. "I was hoping for you to reach me in the 'fresher."

"Blessed youth. Old men need rest."

We exchange a half smile. I say that I should be discussing last events with the Council right now.

"Master Kenobi missing a meeting. They'll take you for dead." He bites his lip. "I know you're going to beat yourself; just, don't be too harsh. You did nothing wrong. Blame me for everything that makes you think differently."

I answer that it looks like an entirely good idea.

A lot is still to be said, so we wait, hoping for the other one to start. Despite having spent out lives together, today we don't know how to behave. We linger, knowing how difficult it will be to get back to this point after we've parted.

A loud, impatient knocking awakens us. I put a bathrobe on and open the door.

Quin pushes me to the side and walks in. "Where the frick were you? This is the last time I cover your ugly ass with the Council. You better have a good reason for this, and this reason is better to be that you scored with..." He seizes me and frowns. "Man, do you ever get dressed? Anyway, they're not buying the loose cannons story and want us to poke our noses into Corellian business. I said you would've been thrilled."

His frowning intensifies when he realises I'm not alone. Anakin is slouched against the kitchen wall and greets him with a small movement of his head.

I hear the gears in my friend's brain clicking, so I remind Anakin he has something urgent to do. He pretends he hasn't heard me, and asks Quin who the Council is suspecting.

"Not sure. They believe there must be an accomplice, probably someone inside the Embassy. If you ask me, they became pretty paranoid, seeing dangers and conspiracies everywhere. Exactly what terrorists aim to achieve - this demonstrates they're winning, if you needed proof." He turns to me with a beaming smile. "We're going to have a lot of fun. All you have to do is put some clothes on."

"Hanging around with you, I usually risk to get killed a bit too much to have fun," I say, entering my bedroom to get dressed.

My concern is similar to the one I'd have leaving two unsupervised Rancors in the same room. When I come back, Anakin is gone, and I do not dare ask Quin what they've been talking about.

We take a speeder and, naturally, my friend insists on flying it himself, making me wonder why cocky, ruthless pilots are such a constant in my life.

"You don't have to tell me what's happening if you don't want to. It's not my business, after all," he says the moment we take off, continuing before I can thank him for his considerate attitude. "I'm going to torture you until you tell me, you di'kut."

"Look ahead, please."

"I'll look ahead when you answer me. You don't skip a meeting with the Council if you're not dead or severely wounded."

I cover my face with a hand. "What do you exactly want me to explain?"

He avoids another speeder with a sudden maneuver, without stopping talking, "Point one; Shaali, details. Point two; missed Council meeting, reasons. Point three; Skywalker in your quarters with wet hair and an 'I've got a secret' expression all over his face."

I sigh. "Shaali is a lovely girl and a skilled Knight, this is all I can say about her. I'm sorry I left you alone with the Council; I've been feeling unwell this morning. Anakin came to talk about his Padawan. Hope all your curiosities are sated."

"Sated my ass. You must think I'm stupid."

He stops at the Embassy entrance, and I've rarely been so relieved to get down a speeder. Behind me, Quin yells that he's not done with me, and I smile at the thought of the last time I've been told these same words. I'm lucky enough that he can't see me.

The Ambassador grants us free access everywhere. He appears genuinely shocked, even if I suspect that what troubles him most is the worsening of the yet controversial role of Corellia in the war. He's afraid there's a mole among his men, and probably can't decide if he prefers us to find him or not. I guess this is the reason our free access is in fact guarded by his secretary, a severe tall woman who escorts us everywhere and monitors every word we exchange with her colleagues.

After an extended tour of the offices, with poor chances of asking anything relevant to anyone, we're finally conducted to the gala hall. Everything, from broken windows to bloody floor, looks like we left it last night; only the corpses are missing.

Without the need to say a word about it, we start our tried and tested old play.

I ask something unimportant to the secretary, and Quin keeps making rough, half-mouthed comments that gain him some icy glares. When he finally states that all Corellians are unfaithful traitors of the Republic and that I shouldn't listen to a word the lying shutta is saying, I lose my temper and order him to have a walk and leave the talk to me.

He curses and obeys. I extensively apologise, begging her to forgive my partner as, sadly, not all Jedi are gifted with good manners and common sense.

This achieves two results. First, the woman is eager to answer any questions coming from the sensitive, gentle Jedi. Second, Quin is free to wander undisturbed and unsupervised, touching all that inspires him.

We catch up when we get back to our vehicle. I tell him about the employee who hasn't shown up at work this morning. He reveals the blasters' story to be about someone giving them to a guy that matches my guy description, in a Club he recognises as the Outlander.

After some arguing whether to go to his house in the Factory District or to the Club in the Uscru one, I win, and we direct toward the slum.

The area is, as usual, eerie. We look for the address given by the secretary, scrutinised by every sentient we meet; not a lot of Jedi in the Undercity, I guess.

The apartment is in a decrepit ten story building. We enter and climb the mouldy stairs to the top. A distinct clash from behind the door prevents us from ringing the doorbell.

Quin calls the owner's name a couple of times before attempting to break down the door.

I decide to take the long path and use the emergency stairs to find a way in. I'm about to kick the apartment window when someone jumps out of it and flees away across the roofs.

Quin shouts something from the inside, probably 'chase that son of a Bantha!' and I start running, zigzagging between roofs and ledges. The gap between us gradually reduces, the most distance filled when he slows down to shoot with his blaster, until I'm close enough to see he's just a boy, not older than Ashoka.

When I can almost grab his shirt, he fails a jump and slips, taking a thirty meters flight down that leaves him no chances to survive. Hand on knees, I look down to the sad stain that was him, catching my breath.

People on the street are not impressed, most of them just walk around the body without a second gaze.

"Luck is not on our side today. Nor on his," comments Quin when he reaches me. He's covered in blood.

"A Bounty Hunter maybe? If so, a very young one. I deeply hope that blood's not yours."

"I wouldn't cry over his death. He killed our man; I found him dying with a sliced open throat, thus the blood. With this, I'm afraid we're not far from where we began. I'll have a look at the apartment and call the Security Force. You check that mess below. If we find nothing as I guess, we hit the Club."

.

As Quinlan foreshadowed, an hour later we're crossing the Outlander's entrance.

He left his robe in the speeder and is now only partially covered in blood, something that apparently doesn't represent an excessive font of apprehension for lower levels inhabitants. This, or the fact that flashing light, deafening music, and Spice influence tend to make things like this go unnoticed.

"I eventually took you out to enjoy some nightlife," he says with a deep stare at two dancing Twi'lek girls.

"Spectacular achievement," I answer. "Even if technically it is still afternoon."

We split to ask around for someone that could've seen the Corellian employee or his killer around here. We last an hour before the manager decides that our presence is not good for business and sort of kicks us out.

What we find out, with some help from my Force persuasion and Quin's psychometry, is that the blasters and the explosive passed hand in here a few nights ago and that, when the exchange took place, there were someone else with the roof boy. The barman's description of the woman with the Embassy guy is quite unmistakably that of Aurra Sing.

"We know with whom she has been working lately," says Quin as we fly back to the Temple. "The Council was right, there's the Separatists' hand behind this. Although, what's the point in scaring the whole Senate to death if you don't claim the attack as yours?"

"On the contrary, they did their best to stay in the shadows, fuelling distrust and suspect to exacerbate the already tense Corellian position among the Republic. In any case, I'm afraid we're not going to solve my fleeing boy mystery."

"You mean flying boy. Sing's pupil maybe? Do Bounty Hunters have Padawans? However, if I know her, she already left the planet and is planning to disappear for a while."


	11. Chapter 11

Back to the Temple, I find myself craving alone time to let last night sink in.

Quin has different plans, though. "I'll check Aurra's file in the Archives, and you'll write your little essay for Windu. Then, I'll resume my parallel inquiry about you while we have dinner together."

"Maybe I'll let you trick me into doing your homework, but I'm not getting caught in your web willingly. Why don't you spend the evening with your Twi'lek Knight instead?"

"So, how was my Master today?" Anakin has approached us from behind and is possessively throwing an arm over my shoulders. It could pass unnoticed as a plain, friendly hug, but there's something about the way he holds me that is unequivocally out of place.

 _How foolish of me to hope he would have act like an adult._

My first instinct is to step back to escape the touch, but this would only give more emphasis to it. I take a deep breath, imagining with a straight face several effortless ways to kill him.

If Quin is perplexed, he's not showing it. "He has been adorable, as usual. You should've seen the steady eye contact he kept with all the hot girls he interrogated, in fear of looking at their..."

"I think Anakin's got the idea," I say, getting his arm off my back. "Excuse me, but I'm not ready for this. I can barely tolerate you two separately."

"You're unfair," replies Anakin, pouting and grinning at the same time. "I'm showing all my affection to my old Master, and Quinlan's praising your honourability. The least you can do to demonstrate your gratitude is cooking us dinner."

The more I try to get free, the more the net gets tighter. "You must be kidding. I'd rather dine with Dooku and Ventress; it would be more relaxing."

"Ouch, it burns," says Quin, his hand over his heart.

"If it hurts, ask Obi-Wan for one of his Bacta salves. They can make the difference."

All of a sudden, I'm considering all the mitigating circumstances I'll present to the Council for killing the Chosen One.

Long story short, they force themselves into my quarters, carrying food and alcohol from theirs. For reasons I don't fully understand, they bring Ahsoka too. I show all my fatherly worries over this, but can't help being secretly relieved by her presence, as if she could save me from being eaten alive.

To commence, she helps me with the cooking. We have some quiet time together, ignoring the boys laughing from the living room like younglings throwing a party behind their Masters' back.

Cutting the vegetables, I ask how her day was, wondering once again why she can't be my Padawan.

"Nothing special. A couple of classes in the morning, some training with Anakin after lunch. He feels different today... You're right, he's moody. I shouldn't let his swings affect me so much." We turn our heads to look at him before she continues. "I like it when he's like this."

"Me too. His mood can be contagious, for better and for worse; he can be thrilled, furious and desperate over the same hour. I had to learn how to handle this. Here's something we have in common."

Ahsoka smiles warmly.

I've rarely had this kind of mutual understanding with anyone. An instinctive communion that makes me feel comprehended beyond words.

The only other person with whom I share something similar is Padme. Obviously, what we three have in common is Anakin. We orbit together around him, caught by his gravity; desperate to get free, at times.

I'm trying to admit the Senator is my friend, yet another good reason to feel sick whenever I think of her.

"Obi-Wan, you're burning the dinner." Ahsoka takes my place near the stove. "They'll get drunk if we don't feed them quickly."

She's right, we start eating just in time; they're a bit intoxicated but still nothing serious.

Quin is carrying on a talk he probably has begun while we were cooking. "I was explaining to Skywalker how irrecuperable Obi-Wan is. For example, there's this beautiful, brilliant Knight that is - inexplicably - dying for him. He's her perfect hero, the flawless Jedi, and all that shit. The moment he snaps his fingers she's in his bed, I swear."

I interrupt him, "I'm sure this can't interest anyone. Moreover, I don't think it's suitable for Padawan ears."

"Don't hide behind Ahsoka, she's not a child," says Anakin, amusedly looking at his embarrassed Padawan. "Actually, I find this story interesting. Let him finish."

Quin goes on, "So, what do you think he does when they meet under Coruscant's stars? He goes full Master Yoda on the poor girl; patronises her, calls her young one, and leaves her in despair. Ahsoka, you're a smart gal, does this make sense to you?"

I tell him to leave her in peace, but she answers anyway, obviously proud to be admitted to the grown-up table. "Maybe he's simply not interested. Anyway, isn't attachment forbidden?"

I love her more than ever.

"Sweet child, how can you possibly survive as Skywalker's Padawan? " Asks Quin. "They could've kept faith to the Code, enjoying something different from attachment! For Force's sake, she's exactly what he needs now, he has no right to be uninterested. He keeps boycotting his life."

"Ahsoka has more common sense than you'll ever have," I shot back. "I'd be interested if only you could stop selling me that girl at all costs. Shaali doesn't need your help to look attractive. Now, could we please talk about something else?"

Anakin mouth stays open for a second - one of the best seconds of my life - before he gets himself together. "This is a battle you can't win, Quin; not with those blunt weapons. You'll need something more than a dull Knight to make him surrender. Obi-Wan's standards are kriffing high."

Quin is seriously pondering this, and I take my chance to talk. "Perhaps it goes beyond your comprehension, but someone prefers to keep his private life private... Now, interrupting this catching debate is gruesome, but it's time for you two to clear the table and wash the dishes while I have a caf with the only reasonable person in the room."

"They're terrible. I'm sorry you had to undergo this," I tell Ahsoka when we are on the couch, looking at her over my cup.

"This is so typical of you, Master, worrying about others when you're the one that has been tormented all night. I'm feeling bad because I know it hasn't been fun for you, but I loved this dinner. All my favourite people laughing and joking together, making war seem distant. Maybe I sound childish, but it feels like family. Quinlan could be the crazy uncle."

The implications of what she's saying hit her, and she fiercely reddens.


	12. Chapter 12

I fail to hold back laughter, aggravating the situation.

"I'm not making fun of you, Ahsoka. I pictured Anakin as an apron-wearing mum, baking you cookies."

She gives me an impish look. "Ehm... to be honest, you were the mum of my mental image."

I laugh even louder though her words are melting something inside me.

"You're not childish," I tell her. "Sharing these things isn't easy, I'm glad you did it with me. It's important to recognise these moments when they come."

"I dunno. Sometimes, understanding what is right and what is not is hard. A family... Isn't it selfish? I don't even know if this is a thing I'm allowed to feel."

"Of course you are. You care for people who matter to you and want them by your side; this can't be wrong. Jedi would be very bleak people, otherwise. Acknowledge and accept your feelings, but don't let them rule you. What you feel is not what you are."

She nods, staring at her knees. Then, she raises her eyes to meet mine. "What of rage and hate? How can I accept them when the Code itself says they shouldn't be?"

"It doesn't say they shouldn't be. Jedi aren't immune to hate, fear, and passions - How could they be? Nonetheless, they should be able to overcome them."

Anakin throws himself into one of the armchairs in front of us and places his boots on the caf table. "Oh no, he's lecturing you. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"There's no need to lecture her, she could be the one lecturing us any day. Hard to believe she's your Padawan."

"Thank you, Obi-Wan. I see it's still impossible to you to give a compliment without compensating it with something unpleasant."

"And I see you still love making fun of everyone except yourself."

We exchange a long, heated look that makes Ahsoka wince.

Quin is about to sit in the other armchair but stops midway to study us.

"Oh," he says.

We all questioningly stare at him as he sits.

"Nevermind. I had a sudden revelation. Nothing important. Keep arguing."

"Let's talk about something else, instead," says too quickly Ahsoka. "I've heard Padme got hurt in last night explosion."

Anakin and I are avoiding to look at each other.

Quin lingers on us as he speaks. "I didn't know it. Is she ok?"

"Yes Anakin, is she okay?" I echo, immediately regretting my harsh tone.

Anakin looks at me with curiosity. "I was with her when it happened. It's just a bruise."

I'm on the cusp of asking where and how big this bruise is, but I bite my tongue in time.

Ahsoka frantically searches something to break the awkward silence. "Perhaps, I should pay her a visit to check how she is. Want to come with me, Master?"

I decide not to listen to Anakin's answer and bring the cups to the kitchen. While I'm there, I rinse them in the sink as slow as I can, letting hot water burn me.

When I get back, my friends are discussing politics. I turn the autopilot on, focusing on their attitudes more than on their words.

Quin is relaxed and confident. He enjoys challenging me on hot topics but is more moderate than he may appear.

Anakin's by default sided with the less defendable opinion, perpetually attempting to show off his wit.

Ahsoka only intervenes when she believes she knows the matter enough. She tends to be a bit of an extremist, but I forgive this in reason of her young age and of her Master's influence.

The discussion moves to war, then to strategy, getting more and more technical, so that she gradually loses interest. When they debate whether to use an AT-TE or an AT-OT to transport men on rough terrains, her head slips on my shoulder. The first couple of times, she straightens up and mouths a timid 'sorry' in my direction. The third one, she just stays there. After a while, the quiet rhythm of her breath tells me she's sleeping.

Her montral is puncturing my arm, so I slowly slide away until her head lays in my lap.

"They're boring, aren't they?" I whisper to unconscious her.

Anakin's comm rings. After peeking at it, he takes the call in the kitchen, followed by my gaze.

When I turn back to Quin, he's wrinkling his forehead.

" _Him_ , Obi-Wan? Really?" He's whispering to avoid waking up Ahsoka and being heard by Anakin, so the entire conversation gets a conspiratorial tone. "This idea is so bad that it makes me question your intelligence. You must know it, these things never work."

I'm quite astonished, so he uses my silence to continue, talking quickly to end before Anakin returns. "I know you're not comfortable talking about it, and I couldn't care less. This isn't going to end well. You must stop it now."

I get closer, leaning forward as much as Ahsoka allows me. "You've been trying to get me to mate with every sentient I met since I was fifteen. I can't believe you're the one scolding me for this."

"What's so hard to understand? Anyone but him! I'm sure there's no need to give you reasons, the list is long. I'm serious. Don't."

I shrug. "I guess it's too late."

His mouth opens in disbelief. "Force. It's worst than I though. We're not talking about sex, are we? You're entirely wasted."

He's raising his voice so I point my head toward Ahsoka and the kitchen as eloquently as I can.

He pretends he hasn't seen me and starts counting on his fingers. "First, he's your Padawan, a sure recipe for disaster. Trust me, this alone would be enough."

"He's not my Padawan anymore."

"Oh, come on, he still calls you Master. Once a Padawan, always a Padawan. Second, you're going to blame yourself for this till the end of your days, and you can't afford this. Third, you work together all the time. Fourth, he's wicked and fifth, he's not free and probably will never be. He's going to chew you up and spit you out."

Quin's face is so solemn it could be comical.

"You'll get hurt so badly you can't even envision," he hisses in my direction when the subject of our discussion comes back.

"Who's gonna get hurt?" Anakin asks when he's back. "Are you menacing my Master, Quinlan?"

His tone is light, with a subtle hint of challenge. I rub my temples, sensing the storm coming.

"I was warning him against bad decisions though I'm afraid he's a lost cause."

"Obi-Wan is stubborn, but he's usually considered on his choices. Even too considered. What has he done, this time?"

"He's throwing his life into a Sarlacc pit."

They glare at each other like two reekcats before a fight.

I try to catch their attention. "May I remind you I'm still here? I wonder what I've done to be such an appealing subject tonight. It would be flattening if you two wouldn't enjoy maltreating me so much."

"Being cruel to you may be absolutely irresistible," answers Anakin without moving his eyes from Quin.

I hope with all my heart that my friend will refrain from the 'hurt him, and I will hurt you' speech.

My wish is granted because he gets up and announces it's time to go.

"I'll call you if I find something new about our favourite Bounty Hunter." Then, scowling at Anakin. "Bring your Padawan home, Skywalker, she's tired."

I'm almost scared, I've rarely seen him like this. I wish him good night from the couch, and Anakin takes him to the door, throwing me a puzzled look.


	13. Chapter 13

I play with Ahsoka's beads, trying not to muse over Quin's words. After all, he said nothing different from what I tell myself every day. I shouldn't be so stunned.

"How could you get him this mad in only two minutes?" Asks Anakin when he's back.

"You know him, he'd never miss a chance to rebuke me and pretend to be the wise one. Good friends may be over-protective, sometimes."

"True, but you're not answering. Over-protective about what?"

I huff because there's no way I can escape this. "He doesn't think we make a cute couple. He said you're going to - how was it? - 'chew me up'. I hadn't the guts to disagree."

Anakin's eyes darken. "Quinlan should consider minding his own business some more. Then, you could have found something to say in our defence. You both have an awful opinion of me."

"I wonder how we would have possibly got it. I'm afraid there's nothing I could have said to advocate my choices; you know I regard them as terrible ones."

"There must be a reason if you keep making these terrible choices, something you enjoy about them... You should appreciate the upsides more and worry less. Or, if you must at all costs prophesy tragedies, you could consider the possibility that I'll not be the one who will hurt the other."

My expression is explicit enough to upset him. "Blast! I promise I won't 'chew you out', whatever that means. However, hurting you the way he said presupposes you're involved in a way you're not. You can sleep tight."

He will be the death of me. I hate it when he fishes for strokes like this.

"Couldn't we talk of this tomorrow?" I suggest.

"She's asleep, where's the problem?" He looks down at Ahsoka, his head tilted. "She's so at ease with you. Sometimes I wonder if they shouldn't have given her to you, instead of me."

"I wouldn't make a great match with her, as you wouldn't have worked well with Qui-Gon. We'd be too reflective together, and the two of you would've not been encourageable. You take the lively part of Ahsoka out; you're good for her."

'And she's good for you,' I think to myself, reminded of all the times her presence protected him from his destructiveness.

"Be proud of the individual she's becoming," I say instead. "You're doing an excellent job with her."

 _At least, better than the one I did with you._

Anakin smiles, as he always does when someone praises him. Then, he places a hand on my armrest and leans down to me. There's nothing I can do without waking up Ahsoka, so he holds my face with his other hand and kisses me softly, with open eyes.

"Anakin, this is hardly the moment."

He's still smiling. "I don't think I've ever kissed someone with a moustache before."

"An utterly relevant piece of information. Now, take your Padawan back and let me go to bed."

He glances at her again, raising half of his upper lip. "You wouldn't have allowed me to sleep on you like this when I was her age."

"She's not my Padawan, I can spoil her all I want - not to mention that she's more mature and less clingy than you were. Trust me, the last thing you needed was to be spoiled some more. However, you're not fair; you slept with me hundreds of times after 'bad dreams'. I bet you wouldn't let her."

"She's too old for that. You kicked me out of your bed too, at some point."

I did that the day he incontrovertibly revealed he had become a man, having woke me up from grinding on my thigh as he slept. Mostly in reason of the effect it had on me.

"Either way," he continues. "Those few times you let me, you were complaining all the time."

I roll my eyes, my voice taking a mocking tone. "Gosh, Anakin, jealous of your Padawan?"

"Of course I am. I don't like sharing." Then, with a sly grin. "Talking of this, I'm under the impression you too could be suffering from jealousy."

"I'm not that kind of person, and we've not that kind of relationship. It's not this. I don't like deceptions."

"So, are you saying it would make it okay to you if only Padme knew? Maybe you should tell her. She might surprise you."

My eyebrows draw together as I try to find a bluff written somewhere on his face.

"I assume this is up to you," I answer after a while, realising I'm all out of comebacks.

"Why? I have no reason to do that. I'm fine the way we are," Anakin says, apparently enjoying this. "It's you that is uncomfortable."

I am wordless. My hands itch to hit him.

An amused, immature smile raises on his features. "What do you mean saying we don't have that kind of relationship?"

My eyes close in distress. "Not now. Go home."

"No. I want you."

I pontificated about the need for overcoming feelings just tonight. What a fraud. These last three words are giving me fever.

I must take a deep breath before answering.

"Then, you shouldn't have brought Ahsoka."

And you shouldn't be such a kung.

"Maybe I can find a remedy to the first matter. Let me show you a trick," he answers.

I grumble with growing irritation. "If you don't stop karking with my thoughts, I will prove Quin's wrong by hurting you so badly you can't imagine."

Anakin isn't listening. He crouches down and carefully slides his forearms under his Padawan's neck and knees, murmuring something in her ear. Then, he lifts her from my lap in one smooth motion and smiles at me like an illusionist after a well-executed show.

Ahsoka mumbles in her dreams, tucking her face into his neck. He slowly treads to his old room and opens the door with a foot. They disappear inside.

He re-emerges empty handed, cautiously closing the door behind his back, radiant. "I bet you weren't thinking of this when you taught me sleep induction."

* * *

 _Editing: CoreWorlds_


	14. Chapter 14

Anakin kneels between my legs with an eager grin, as awaiting a recompense. "I'm good at it because I've been practising a lot..."

He puts his hands on my kneecaps, peering at me with the look he had as a boy when he found out getting me mad was an effective way to draw my attention. "You know, coming back home late at night, not wanting your Master to get angry at you... You were right, it works better with those who trust you."

"What a misplaced trust."

I glower at him but end up captivated by his taunting eyes.

I'm sick to touch him, either to hit or to kiss him.

 _Kriff_.

"This doesn't make it any better," I whisper, hoping he will not notice how the air had left my lungs. "You're still a di'kut, and she's still only a door away from us."

His hands slide forward on my thighs, taking with them a hefty slice of my already confused decree. "Whoa, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. How loud are you planning to be?"

"Actually, it is your loudness that worries me most," I say, deciding I can't fight my craving any longer. I take his head in my hands and let both my bitterness and my need flow in our kiss.

The Force stirs inside me as our Signatures begin to mix.

When our lips part, his hands moves up, lightly brushing my primary source of discomfort before pressing me against the backrest. Anakin lifts my tunic and kisses my chest. His aura ignites like a candle, projecting flickering shadows around us.

I purse my lips and stare at the ceiling, stroking his neck. "You're tickling me. I don't think that's fair."

His only answer is a subdued 'mmph' just before his tongue circles my nipple. When he bites it, I can't hold back a moan.

His snicker blows warm air on my skin. I'm willing to protest again, but he begins sucking my flesh, and all my previous thoughts leave my mind.

His fingers are working on my belt now; my stomach instinctively contracts to help him complete the task. Anakin caresses me with deliberate kisses, tracing lightly beneath my navel and the hair that trails toward my groin, slowing down as he gets closer.

My lungs struggle to draw breath, my heart starts to pound. I twitch when his lips finally touch my tip. I feel guilty for wanting more.

He takes my right hand from his shoulder and places it on the top of his head, letting my fingers mingle with his dishevelled curls. Then, he becomes tranquil, waiting for me to accept his invite.

" _Anakin_..." I warn him, my voice wavering.

A whisper of the Force swirls within our Bond. I attempt to listen but, when I look down at him, my blood courses through my body, intoxicating me.

He teases with swift taps of his tongue, his expression both daring and expectant.

I fail myself and gently push him down.

He allows me to direct the pace and depth, and I gradually turn from timid to rough

The thought of Anakin being so submissive, permitting me to force my body into his, asking me for it, is almost unbearable. I am ashamed of the way I feel when he chokes on me.

When I must, I seize his hair to pull him away. Our eyes meet, and his vehement, breathless face is so beautiful it hurts.

All at once, I understand that the Darkness I sense is not his alone. A primal urge for something I don't understand pervades me. It instigates me to cancel her from his mind and body, as to own him completely. The need to merge with him feels like a confused and frustrated disturbance that is close to suffering.

"Master..." He hoarsely begs, moved by a dazed tumult that resembles mine.

What he wants from me surprises us both. This is not who we are, what we're used to be. Nevertheless, it's real, and it's happening right now.

The Force presses on us both as we suffocate with desire. I know it's not too late, I can stop this, I fight it every day. I try to reach for the Light, but it's growing further from me, and I must let go.

I grab Anakin's tunic as I stand, pulling him towards the nearest wall without a thought, pushing his face hard against it.

I struggle with his belt from behind; he helps me get rid of it until we toss it to the floor. I uncover only as much of him as I need and he steps back to balance himself. He places a forearm on the wall, his free hand sliding lower down his body.

"Now," he exhales with a voice that is not his, burying his face in his bicep.

The growing lust that surrounds us blazes like a provoked reactor core.

Anakin is not ready, but I take him anyway, forcing him to shrink and stifle a whine against his arm.

I follow our Bond to adjust our positions until reach a soft point inside him that makes him gasp. I clasp each moment, focus on each drive, and try to impress on my mind what I feel when he reaches his peak, tightening around me with a deep cry.

I maintain my rhythm until the quake of his muscles has settled. Then, I let my need guide me, forgetting everything that is not his body, his wet skin against mine, his panting breath. I indulge in hard, blinding thrusts until I must dig my fingertips into his waist, as a piece of me dies inside him.

* * *

 _Editing: CoreWorlds_


	15. Chapter 15

I rest my forehead on Anakin's shoulder as the tide of the Force withdraws.

In the release that follows, his Signature unfolds like a blooming venomous flower. Its scent draws me in; dreadful, though morbidly captivating.

My fascination scares me more than Darkness itself.

I walk back a few steps and buckle my belt, sickened by what I've done, by what I'm sensing.

"How strange," says Anakin, facing the wall as he redresses. "You want something so much and for so long but, when you finally obtain it, is not what you were expecting."

He turns to lean against the wall; his expression is in a precarious balance between caring and challenging. "Don't be so fearful. We were just dipping our toes."

"I'm not scared," I lie. "I'm sorry."

 _If we don't find a way to wash away the violent intensity of what has happened, it will wreak us._

"For me? You'd never do anything you aren't sure I want." His amused smirk quickly emerges; his tone is covertly bantering. "And you know I wouldn't let anyone do to me what you did."

"Of course I'm not talking of this," I say with impatience, forcing myself to hold his gaze. "This is not dipping your toes, it's kriffing bathing in it – and you like it!"

"I got the impression you enjoyed it too."

A glass from the table beside me smashes on the floor; the only thing I can do to avoid punching him.

"You'll wake Ahsoka," he says in a stage whisper, clearly amazed by my lack of self-control.

"I want you to leave, now," I murmur before realising what I'm saying.

His eyes close for a moment, the way they would have if I had hit him.

"You knew this would have happened. There are two sides of it; we can't go so far beyond without stirring them both." He cracks a dejected smile, and I see 'little Ani' waiting to be scolded. "... Is what you saw this bad?"

I just keep my eyes on his, as he already knows the answer.

Trying to match what I've seen of him in the Force with his boyish features, I find out I can't.

"These things go both ways," Anakin sneers, quickly switching from hurt to angry. "I've felt you as you've felt me – the only difference is that, as usual, you loathe me while I'm fond of what I've seen; my Master is human, after all, and craves for possession, as anyone else does. I certainly prefer him this way."

His lips upturn into a cruel grin. "You could've just asked me to leave Padme if it stings this much. I was waiting for you to do it."

My fists clench. "Only you can talk of this Bantha poodoo now. Can't you see that all that matters is that you're sinking? You walked in it too far."

And you're dragging me down with you.

He shows his empty palms to me. "This is just the way I am. Save me, if you believe you can do it. Do you love me enough to get your karking shiny boots dirty?"

Then, when I do not respond, his voice uneven, "Do I repel you?"

Anakin treads closer, towering over me. I tell him not to touch me.

"This much?" He attempts to sound sarcastic. "You said Light could win anything."

He wants to hear that we're going to be okay, that I'll fix everything, and I don't know if I can.

"You have to save yourself; this is the only way." My voice gets weaker after every word. "If that is even what you want."

It is his turn to remain silent.

"You're right, I am enjoying it," I eventually concede. "This is exactly what troubles me."

What troubles me is that when he's not with me I suffocate, that what I feel when he touches me is enough to break the whole Code at once.

The way I've let Darkness subdue me is revolting, yet I'm afraid I might easily let it happen again.

"I told you," he mutters. "Blame me for all your despicable, terrible actions. It couldn't be easier."

"You know I consider myself responsible for both of ours."

A thump from Anakin's old room makes us snap our heads toward the door. We share a look with wide eyes.

I rapidly scan him and the room, finding too many out of place details.

Anakin puts a hand over his mouth to hush an improper laugh.

"Your expression is priceless," he whispers when the handle turns.

Ahsoka appears in the doorway, stroking her lekku, muddled.

"I had a bad dream..." Her eyes stop being sleepy the moment she focuses on us. She peers up at me, and groans. "... I fell asleep on you, didn't I? I'm so sorry!"

"Don't be," I reply, realising that, of all that has happened tonight, what I prefer to remember is the innocent comfort of her head on my legs.

Her thoughts are already leading her to the following deduction.

"How did I get from the couch to that bed?" She ponders aloud, panic in her tone.

Anakin sneers at her vexation, "I carried you,"

I've rarely seen someone getting so quickly this crimson and ruffled. "I'm not a youngling!"

"This is why I promise it was the last time." He's trying to soothe her though his evident mirth is only going to escalate her irritation.

Ahsoka whines, resigned, "In the presence of Master Kenobi - because napping over him wasn't enough..."

"Obi-Wan doesn't mind," says Anakin, his allusive eyes on me. "He wouldn't have allowed you, otherwise."

She lets him put an arm around her shoulders, and he gently nudges her away.

They're halfway to the door, and I'm breathing again, when she spins on her heels.

Ahsoka's gaze moves thoughtfully from my face up to his, and then all around, lingering on the shattered glass at my feet.

"What was your nightmare about?" I ask to deflect her attention, despite suspecting the answer will not please me.

"Choking..." she mumbles absentmindedly. "Drowning in a field of mud,"

Her mind puts the pieces together until she fixes her eyes on mine again, knowing I can't lie to her. "What's with the glass?"

"Your Master is a bit drunk, Snips," Anakin interrupts when I was sure he was going to enjoy watching me flounder for an excuse. "Obi-Wan can't handle me like this; we should get back to our quarters."

"You could just say it's not my business," she mutters, walking herself to the door. "You two always treat me like I'm dumb."

* * *

 _Editing: CoreWorlds_


	16. Chapter 16

When they finally leave, I look at my empty quarters and understand how I needed to be alone and in silence. A lot going on, and not enough space to think.

I pour myself a glass of Quin's Polanis Red, staring at the broken glass on the floor.

All I did tonight leaves me astounded. Blaming Anakin for everything is tempting. We're playing a game he knows better than I, there's little hope.

I'm defeated and disgusted by myself, yet I can't help feeling somewhat euphoric. This incongruence is utterly disturbing. I should be in despair; instead, I'm thrilled as if on the edge of a cliff and about to take the fall; uncaring of all consequences, like a Novajack junkie.

Quinlan is right; we're descending into the abyss. In spite of this, the thought that he has been mine for a fleeting moment is enough to make me follow the path with a foolish grin. Self-destruction in change of him; in the far reaches of my mind, it seems worth it.

All my life, I regarded those who are dominated by their feelings as weak. I thought this of Padme, for years.

'You know who he is,' I wanted to tell her. 'He sees something he wants, and he takes it. You're older, wiser, you should know better, you can prevent this.' Now, my conceit has finally been reprimanded.

When I am drunk enough, I retire to my bed, desolated.

In my sleep, Qui-Gon comes to me. As he always does in my dreams, he asks if I trained the boy.

I answer that I've done all I can. "Still, he's walking the line between Darkness and Light."

I see my Master's defining mocking smile. "Aren't we all, Padawan?"

I want to tell him that I'm lost and need his guidance, but my throat clenches.

"I fulfilled my promise," I finally shout. "What now?"

I wake up at dawn with his name on my lips, exasperated more than sad.

I discovered long ago how few words might change lives. Qui-Gon's haunted me for years; an eternal memento of my Master's last thoughts toward someone that wasn't me.

When he died, my resentment for him and Anakin shocked me more than my loss. I'd have never thought I could be capable of such a feeling, and I had no one to help me handle it.

Anakin was a kid, and I inwardly shunned him, wishing he had never crossed our path every time I saw him. Living with someone who disliked him so much must have been hard.

I started feeling guilty and burying my feelings for him since then. Discarded, abandoned, hurt; I gave Anakin all the fault – the way I am tempted to do now.

Eventually, I achieved what I advised Ahsoka to do; beyond pain and wounded pride, I overcame my emotions to see in the boy that which Qui-Gon had. I did all I could to forgive myself and my Master, and tried to move on.

Anakin was... Terrible, really. Needy, whiny, arrogant, and disrespectful. He did nothing to make caring for him easy, but he kept me busy, and my dutiful ways gave me a reason. Once, I surprised myself thinking that the damn promise could have been intended to save me, more than him.

I try to sleep some more, but only end up knotted in sweated sheets. I can't accept how irresponsible my actions were last night. Ahsoka's dream and her troubled eyes weigh me down, making my stomach tie and forcing me to leave the bed.

"Meditation will not hurt you," I say out loud, reaching my usual spot near the window. When I fold my legs beneath me, a blade of golden morning light cuts my chest in half. I thoughtfully gaze at it, attempting to centre myself. As one could have easily predicted, I struggle to quell the disturbance inside my chest, and the Force evades me.

I know all too well how difficult it is to get out of this vicious cycle once you're in; I compose myself to avoid frustration, inhale slowly, and methodically wash away all that travels within my mind.

I give up when I find myself daydreaming, staring at the wall I made Anakin whine against. I curse, untangle my limbs and stand up, fearing there is nothing I can do to escape my unbalanced mood.

Despite my wandering mind, I diligently clean last night's mess, cringing a little in the process. Afterwards, I write the short report for the Council, and check the holonews, blaming bad dreams and poor choices for my melancholy and sleep loss.

Not for the first time, I wonder what Qui-Gon would think of me; whether he would believe I've failed him. This past week definitely convinced me that I am not the Jedi he expected me to be.

These days resemble the ones preceding his death; times when every decision seems to lead in a defined direction. The thought of all the things that could have gone differently, the small variables that might have changed everything, has always been excruciating.

Late in the morning, I receive a call from Quin. As the commlink buzzes, I become aware that I don't want to hear anything he has to say. I just stare at it until it falls silent again, feeling equally relieved and troubled.

When I can't stay in my quarters any longer, I resolve to personally take my report to Master Windu. A decision that will carry more consequences than one might anticipate.

I reach the halls that lead to the Council chamber, greeted by the sight of Padme nodding her head with Mace just outside it. They wear smiles that do not reach their eyes.

I don't know what they were talking about, but I'm sure each one believes themselves to be the victor.

I bow my head respectfully and try to painlessly walk by. However, Windu stops me to enquire about the Embassy attack, making me silently swear.

He greets my answer with sounds of bland interest. Padme throws me a sympathetic smile.

"Master Vos spoke with me regarding further developments this morning," he says. "The Council suspects this situation runs deeper than we first predicted. He has learned Aurra Sing and some of her associates have been traversing between Coruscant and Palawa over the last months. We have no evidence to suggest Sing is there now. However, the Council wishes to investigate the reasoning behind these activities on an abandoned planet such as this. I'd have asked you to take care of it, though Master Yoda informs me you would rather postpone your next mission."

"I wouldn't presume such luxuries during times of war," I thoughtlessly reply.

"In this case, Skywalker and yourself would be dispatched to further examine our leads."

My gaze imperceptibly slips onto Padme, before I dare request they send me alone.

She returns my glance with a blank expression.

"I would prefer you have someone to cover your back. Is this a problem?" He queries.

I stay quiet for a little too long, with Padme's eyes steady on me.

With his usual lack of emotion, Windu states that he will take it to Yoda, before turning back to her.

"Senator, thank you for your time. Please, allow me to find a Knight to escort you back to the Temple entrance." He steps toward the Council Chambers door, allowing it to slide open with a gentle hiss.

"Couldn't Master Kenobi?" Asks Padme. "I could use ten minutes with an old friend."

"As you wish," Answers Windu on my behalf.

I am unfortunately obligated to confirm it would be my pleasure.

* * *

 _Editing: CoreWorlds_


	17. Chapter 17

Padme takes my arm and leads me away, lightly pulling me downward so that I can hear her whispering.

"That meeting left me longing for a walk." Her eyes smile with her lips, this time.

I attempt to smile back. "As you wish, Senator. We could pass through the gardens."

I wait until we are far enough from Windu before resuming the conversation. "What brought you here today?"

She sighs. "The Senators are freaking out over the Embassy attack. They have no problems dealing with casualties on the Outer Rim, but suddenly lose their composure when it becomes evident that war is here as well. Our enemies are hoping to scare us into making a false step. It would be wise to cool off before deciding anything."

Padme slows down to look at me, pondering how much of her thoughts she can reveal. "As bad as it seems, Separatists are not the only ones that might profit from our panic if we rush the Senate into hasty decisions. The Council has just agreed to formalise Jedi roles into Senate protection; Master Windu asked me to bring the proposal to the Supreme Chancellor's attention. They plan to assign us younger Knights or even Padawans, as the majority of you are already fulfilling your duties on the battlefield. Even so, I admit that having Jedi looking after you sounds reassuring. There is little doubt many will see it this way."

She makes sure I grasp her allusions before continuing, "However, with all due respect, I'm not convinced that granting the Order even more powers would be advisable. In the name of war and emergency, we keep confusing roles among the Republic; this could easily lead to dramatic consequences. Don't get me wrong, please, you know I'm usually partial to the Order and consider it essential to war. Though, my dear Obi-Wan, power is power. Even the Jedi may get drunk on it."

Padme looks into the distance as we approach the gardens, asking herself if she should have kept her mouth shut.

"Not all Jedi are Obi-Wan Kenobi," she concludes gravely.

 _And nor are they all Anakin Skywalker_.

I suppose she would stop considering me an example of Jedi morality if she knew what I did to her man just a few hours ago. Amazing how every single word of this last thought is disturbing.

'Tell her,' he said. I try devising how this would change the three of us or at least her expression, with poor results.

Eventually, I just say that, regardless of it being accurate or not, her opinion of the Order's integrity saddens me.

Padme seems genuinely worried about my sickened expression. "I apologise if I offended you, that wasn't my intention. Politics has made me cynical. I wish I could stop seeing corruption everywhere."

Hurting my feelings sincerely concerns her. I find myself counting the steps that are separating us from the Temple entrance.

"Yours are justified concerns," I finally respond. "I'm not so ingenuous to believe all Jedi are spotless, and I agree that the Senate should use great caution when granting extraordinary powers - to anyone. Nevertheless, a living Senator is certainly better than a dead one."

"I'll take it that you still prefer us alive like a good sign," Padme answers with a smile.

We reach the small wooden bridge, and she stops to watch the stream that runs beneath us. I restrain my newly found impatience and wait by her with my hands laced behind my back.

She looks tired, but worries only add depth to her eyes. The graceful girl I met ten years ago has bloomed into a beautiful, complex, and intriguing woman.

I wonder why I'm so often compelled to envision her in Anakin's arms. Perhaps, it's the hope that the pain of it may cure me.

She turns her head and catches me staring.

"You look fatigued," I promptly explain.

"I am. This war is wearing me out. I'm always in the spotlight and must assess every word, every move. In spite of this, it seems the more I fight, the less I obtain." She exhales in frustration. "I can't believe I'm complaining about the war to _you_. All I do is talk and attend events, you risk your life every day."

"Each of us plays his part; there is no use comparing." I idly stroke my beard. "Besides, you forget that last night attack demonstrated Senators' lives are at risk too."

"Typical understated Obi-Wan. You're the one exhausted by right; you just arrived, and you're already leaving again." Her melancholic voice showcases her real thoughts. "These missions must be taking a heavy toll on you both, you've been so busy lately... Now the Temple requires your presence day and night; it just seems too much."

 _Don't worry. This night he's all yours. Tied at two, seems fair enough._

Padme bites her lip, evaluating my lack of reaction.

"Knowing you're looking after each other is comforting, so I'd rather see you leaving together." Her conduct is perfectly serene, despite her fingers turning white as she clasps the wooden handrail. "Is there anything I should know, Obi-Wan?"

"Anakin needs a break," I answer in a single breath. "We should separate for a while."

We stare at each other, both trying to seize what has been left unsaid. When Padme states that she's sure I have my reasons, her expression is difficult to read.

"I should go, I've already taken too much of your time with my futile ranting," she finally says, walking ahead of me to reach the other side of the bridge.

* * *

 _Editing: CoreWorlds_


	18. Chapter 18

When we finally part, I decide lunch is not what I need and head directly to the Archives to set up my mission. My hope is that, where meditation failed, studying could thrive in clearing my mind.

As usual, I soon become absorbed in information and lose sight of my original goal. This occurrence is particularly welcomed today, as it keeps me from speculating about the real meaning behind Padme's words.

I'm intent on the events that forced the Followers of Palawa to abandon their planet, when Quinlan makes the chair in front of me creak under his weight, donning an aggravated expression.

"Did a Nexu eat your comm, or are you purposely avoiding me?"

I swiftly hush him. "People are studying in here."

He looked maddened before, now he's evidently ready for a fight. "That old Master over there wouldn't hear me if I yelled. I wanted to share with you what I found before going to Windu, but you left me no choice, you prickly Nerfherder. Could it be that what I said last night is too near the bone? You shouldn't let personal problems affect your duty."

I raise my eyes from my datapad to meet his. "You're right; I shouldn't. I bet you waited for the chance to tell me this your whole life."

Quin considers my countenance before speaking again, probably sensing that there's no use in kicking a dying man.

"What I'd have told you if you'd taken my calls is that tomorrow I'm going back down to the lower levels. Apparently, the explosive they used is uncommon on Coruscant, so I hope a tour of the black market could lead to something." His tone gets sharp. "Windu said you and Skywalker were to visit Palawa, following the fresh intel on Sing's movements."

"I requested it to be a solo mission."

My bluntness surprises him. "Alone could be bad, but without Skywalker is undeniably good. Does this mean you became wise overnight and decided to get rid of him?"

"Perhaps. I wouldn't say I am wise, though." My eyes drift down to my hands gripping the pad. I wonder if I'll ever get over this mess.

"Those puppy eyes of yours break my heart, Kenobi," Quin huffs. "By the maker, what has that boy done to you? I didn't even know you were into men."

"It is news to me too."

Inside me, something cracks. I've never considered this, and now I'm not sure what to think.

Quin rubs his furrowed brows, both worried and disappointed by my hopeless tone. "I've been too hard on you. There's something about Padawans that's just... I know, right? Tempting but utterly inappropriate. Most of us have been through similar poodoo; it will pass. Stay strong."

"If only we could stop talking of this..." I mutter, unnoticed.

"I got it!" He exclaims after some thinking, ignoring the indignant grumble of our archive colleague. "Take Shaali with you, two birds with one stone. Company and _company_." Then, suddenly thoughtful. "Or, I can find you someone else if that is not your type anymore..."

"If I hear another word about that girl, I'm going to push you off the Temple roof. I'll go alone, if Windu lets me, and I will try avoiding Anakin. That's all."

"You know, 'do or do not'..." He quickly raises his hands to protect his face before I hit him with the datapad. "Here's what we're going to do. Let me finish this last assignment here on Coruscant. When I'm done, I'll reach you on Palawa, and we can search the ruins together."

"You're not my type, Master Vos." I try not to grin and fail.

Quin slaps his thigh and laughs obnoxiously loud, pretending not to see the exasperated glances from the elderly Jedi behind me.

"Okay, lover boy, I'll try not to get offended; no _company_ from me. Anyway, what are your plans for your last evening on Coruscant? I expect the 'Chosen One' will not be joining us?" He searches for the answer he wants to hear.

"I guess not... What makes you think I want to spend any more time with you?" I raise my eyebrows in a sad attempt to match his sass.

Wasted words. He keeps talking, his eyes shining impishly, "So, how did you dispose of Tano last night? Skywalker stayed, _right_? "

"Enough." I switch the device off and stand up.

Quin tails me to the exit, saying he's taking this as a yes.

When I speed up my pace, he grabs my shoulder. "Obi-Wan, wait. I don't want you to get plastered over your unrequited love all alone tonight. Let's do it together. Alright?"

I roll my eyes, resigned. "This is the last time I talk about it. The idea you have of this... _thing_ is far from reality. There's no ongoing tragedy. I'm not broken, I am fine. We are not a couple, or 'lovers'. We are..." I search for a word but instead I just shrug. "We are nothing. As you said, we work together, and maybe we shouldn't have..." I lower my voice automatically. "... You know. Nonetheless, it has been a mistake, so let's move on."

The corners of Quinlan's mouth twist downward with his brows. "I can pretend I believe what you're saying if you want me to."

"I'd appreciate that." I release a sharp breath, awkwardly turning to look behind me.

"Still, you should come with me. The Outlander, just the two of us. You can make-believe we're on a mission."

I hold my elbows, imagining this silliness he is proposing, and then my lonely, languishing evening at home.

"You're making it too romantic to refuse," I finally reply. "Only, if I find one of your girls there, I'm out."

"Roger, no girls. A boy, maybe?" He titters like a youngling and dashes away before I can take my words back.

By the time I am home, Windu contacts me. He says he has talked to Yoda, and they agreed I can go alone. The clench in my chest loosen.

I prepare those few things I'll need for tomorrow, asking myself if I should tell Anakin I'm leaving.

Obviously not. I'm only looking for an excuse to see him, and he's probably busy right now.

 _Busy_.

The lure of reaching for his Force Signature feels like an itch I can't scratch. It's clear enough that my impulse to get hurt has something to do with my need to atone.

'I'm fine the way we are' – his words repeat in my mind.

Of course he's fine; he wants it all, and he's getting it. The more, the better, like credits to a Hutt.

.

Quin maintains his promise and is alone when he takes me to the cantina.

There, I feel like a Gundark among Bantha with my Jedi attire, whereas he's totally at ease. He has almost stopped harassing me and is not looking for anyone to get me laid; our time together manages to be agreeable.

We gossip about the Order and share war anecdotes, raising our voices to overcome the thumping music.

All night, I long to tell him what burns me - Padme's ambiguous words, darkness, obsession and loss of control. I feel Quin is patiently waiting for me to start, but the words just seem to be stuck in my throat. He even opens up after several bottles of Kri'gee, sharing some of his own troubles.

"So, you're going to fit into that thing again," he says as we head out of the packed bar. I barely hear him, my ears still ringing. "I should inform your fangirl. She will bitterly regret not seeing you leaving tomorrow."

I tell him I have no idea of what he's talking about, and we both laugh anyway.

Once we are well away from the buzz of the crowds, he picks up where we left off, "You know, Bounty Hunters and all that junk... All about you, from face and clothes to ship, shouts out: 'Jedi here!'"

"There's nothing for me on Palawa, just as there hasn't been for anyone over the last... What? Five-Hundred years?"

He puts his arm around my shoulders and sniggers. "Still, there's something now! Maybe you were looking for a dramatic entrance, but I would go for something more discrete. I'm talking of your Mandalorian armour, you... You _di'kut_!" He chuckles again at his own use of Mando'a.

I theatrically slap my forehead. "Where is my mind? That's _so_ subtle! Not ostentatious at all!"

He takes a sarcastic laugh. "The fact that it turns heads doesn't mean it won't do the job! Wear it, and I'll find a wreck to fly you there, no discussing."


	19. Chapter 19

Flying away from Coruscant feels incredible. Being on my own never bothered me, and a ghost planet allows me not see anyone for hours.

Over the short trip there, I even manage to have some connection with the Force. This fills me with new hopes. I convince myself that what I can't cope with is left behind.

As Quinlan said, these infatuations are common; there's nothing out of the ordinary. I will find a way to get out of this cliché and be myself again. I just need to elude Anakin for a while.

Approaching Palawa, I scan its surface for anything that may suggest recent sentients' presence.

My guess is that Bounty Hunters choose this place as a convenient temporary base in reason of its proximity to Coruscant and its limited interest to anyone.

All I see from here is foliage and sporadic ruins half swallowed by it. My instruments detect life signs though they may easily belong to animals.

I'm overflying the broad brown river that leads to the capital city remains when R4 alerts a power coupling overload.

"We shall land in that clearing over there," I say, inwardly cursing Quin for his brilliant advice to use this piece of junk instead of my Starfighter.

Our landing is rough, though still better than many I've had with Anakin.

My first step on the wet, dark grass is sufficient enough to make me uneasy. The unnatural silence and the tree walls enclosing us feel threatening. Clean air should be overwhelming after Coruscant's pollution; instead, the honeyed smell of flowers and decomposing leaves only makes me think of death.

R4 has already opened the right panel, freeing a puff of smoke.

I reach her, and we discouragedly look at what's inside. It doesn't look like something that suffices a quick repair.

"Did you check it before leaving?" I enquire.

The indignant beeping answer I receive gets even louder when I ask whether she can fix it.

I sigh and thank Quin once more for this damn armour, which makes me feel like an idiot, and this helmet, whose most prominent feature is causing the wearer to drown in his own sweat.

I bless the maker for its built-in cooling system and flick a switch on my wrist console, just to learn that the Galaxy doesn't want to cut me a break.

"Shavit," I audibly swear, making R4 turn her head to me, and stuff the helmet back on with much regret.

Most landings have been recorded around the city area so I resolve to reach my original destination anyway. All I have to do is follow the water trickling and proceed up the river.

Struggling through the lush vegetation gives me plenty of time to realise that, the more I advance, the stronger my bad feeling gets. Ruins increase at the same rate.

Temples and buildings are transfigured by their encounter with the jungle. Plants engulf stones, move pilasters, break through roofs. The resulting green and grey hybrid makes it evident that living matter is going to win its battle against dead one. Greenery will devour anything in its path, and this transmits a subtle feeling of menace.

The broken engine eventually proves itself useful. My detour makes me practically stumble in what remains of a small camp along the river.

A few yellow grass squares on the ground, where tents were, and a small circle of blackened stones in the middle, where the fire was lighted. About a week old, judging by the grass colour.

The sun has reached its peak. I protect my eyes with a hand and raise them to the Jogan-bats' silhouettes shadowing it, wondering if this is what I was looking for.

The unsettling sensation that is following me since my arrival persuades me to proceed.

All I see beyond the city walls is an eerie expanse of relics. Everything feels out of place, and I distressfully realise how my perception of the Dark Side changed over last days.

To me, it has always stood out on Light, so alien and discordant it was impossible to miss. Today, it still feels obnoxious, yet a small, remote part of me resonates with it, leaving me disconcerted. My Darkness has raised to the surface, attracted by Anakin's own like by a magnet.

The Darkness of this place clouds my sight. Nonetheless, this dreadful, newly discovered bit of me is still able to see. I let it in charge for an instant, and what appeared like an abandoned, deserted city reveals its secrets. Footprints and tracks in every alley, a trail of smoke crossing the sky, noises, voices. Once the veil is raised, there's no coming back.

The moment I understand I'm using the Dark Side to reach what's hidden, my heart starts racing, and I step back in awe.

I squat behind a wall to regain my calm, attempting to make sense of what's before me.

A Force concealment this big requires skill, strength and motivation. We're not talking of Bounty Hunters anymore.

I sneak closer to the rubbled Temple that seems to be the centre of most activities and hear the familiar sounds of every military encampment. Climbing an adjacent building, I see there's a small army in there: soldiers, battle droids, even a couple of MTT.

The officials wear Separatists' uniforms, while the soldiers have sparred clothes and armours, not differing from mine.

The Dark Signature glowing below the Temple tastes rough. Someone aware of his skills, but only prizing them as functional instruments. Haughty and humble at the same time; he considers himself a soldier, more than a Dark Acolyte.

I take pics with my holocamera and decide that all I can do is return to my ship and inform the Council.

When I'm back, R4 has done her work, and we are ready to leave.

On board, I set my route to Coruscant and send my images to Windu.

I can't stop thinking of what allowed me to see behind Darkness' curtains.

My first impulse is to discuss my troubles with Yoda, the way I've always done since my Master's death. This time is different, though. I can't describe what's happening to me leaving out Anakin, and I don't want Yoda to get alarmed or even worst, to take measures against him.

Moreover, there's no way I'm briefing him about the recent developments in my relationship with my former Padawan.

I lean back on the seat and close my eyes.

I should worry more about what I found in that temple and less about how I managed to see it. An army, just outside Coruscant, and someone with enough strength in the Dark Side to hide a whole encampment. Among the Separatists, the only individual I know who has the power to accomplish this is Dooku, and that undoubtedly didn't feel like him.

I'm reflecting on this when I receive Anakin's call.

The sight of his face is enough to make me sigh in discontent.

"Master."

"General Skywalker."

Even our greetings have grown awkward.

He enquires about my whereabouts, looking tense. Then, he remains silent, forcing me to ask what in the Galaxy he needs.

"We're on Dolomar. Quin's track regarding the explosive led us here. You should come too."

"Ask the Council to send you someone," I huff. Then, thinking about it. "Did you say 'we'?"

"Ahsoka and I. Don't make me beg, just come. It's a long story, and you're nearer than anyone at the Temple. Don't tell the hangar who you are when landing; I made that mistake already. See you at Diflu market in an hour. Bring a coat."

His image disappears and, when I call him back, there's no answer. I stare at the cockpit for a whole minute, breathing slowly and deep to avoid losing my temper.

Anakin looked distressed, despite his usual irritating attitude. On the other hand, I suppose he would have told me what's wrong, if it was something serious.

I can ignore his call, and let what I feel get in the way of my duty again. Or I can reach him, with identical results. Either way, I lose.

I inform the Council of where I'm headed and change my route, letting my instinct - or maybe my heart - guide me.

Blast, as far as I know, it could even be some other part of my body.


	20. Chapter 20

I admit that, after all, Quin's disguise is not completely pointless.

I'm just another stray Bounty Hunter when I land on Dolomar. Nobody gives me a second gaze, and I exit the hangar smoothly.

It's still early afternoon here, but the sun has already crossed the mountains skyline; the narrow valley lies in the shadow.

The raising wind sweeps snow from the ground to make it whirl before me. White clouds gathered in the distance, anticipating a snowstorm.

I take a deep breath, shivering in my inadequate gear, and quickly descend underground, where most of the planet's life take place, and the temperature is slightly more bearable.

I spot Anakin pretty soon. He looks funny, entirely covered in fur, and I can't help smiling behind my helmet as I greet him with a pat on his shoulder.

He spins and ignites his lightsaber at the Bounty Hunter who dares touch him. The whole market stops to look at us.

My hands raise; his blade already on my throat. "You don't want to do this to your Master."

He disengages, a comical, perplexed expression on his features that worsens when I bare my head and tell him that he should try being nicer if he wants my help.

Anakin doesn't smile back and takes me away from the crowd. "I could talk about that thing you're wearing for hours, but I'm afraid we'll have to wait better times."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or you want me to guess? Where's your Padawan?"

He bites the inside of his cheek. "I don't know."

I stop to glare at him, both eyebrows raised.

"Quinlan found out the Embassy explosive can only be extracted from Dolomar mines, so we came here to investigate. We had problems since our landing - too many Bounty Hunters and pirates around here, Jedi just look like walking credits to them."

He peers behind my shoulder, slightly blushing. "Sorry, I can't talk to you if you're wearing that."

I open my mouth to admonish him, and he continues before I can. "At the cantina, we separated to ask around. I hadn't seen Ahsoka since then, not long before I called you. She's not answering to her comm, and nobody has seen her."

"You lost your Padawan," I deliberately state.

His Signature starts burning, kindling mine like sparks on paper. "Don't lecture me; I'm worried enough, and it doesn't help. Let's try again at the cantina, we could find something more."

He starts hastily walking, and I must follow, raising my voice to reach him. "Only scum here, you said it yourself, yet you let her alone."

He slows down, tempted to turn and confront me, then resumes his pace, nervously blowing smoke in the cold air. He's dying for a fight, the only thing that keeps him is his urgency to find Ahsoka.

"He comes here wearing that, then scolds me for being distracted." I hear him mutter under his breath.

At the cantina, vapour rising from the wet coats fogs the fireplace light. The floor is slippery with brownish melted snow, and everything smells like drenched dog.

Anakin tells me he already questioned the customers, so I propose to go for the workers, "I take the kitchens, you the waitresses. That annoying face of yours usually works better than mine with that sort of things."

I leave before he can reply anything, and go looking for the back door.

I coast the clay building to a small entrance in a dimly lighted alley. A couple of mine-rats are getting dinner on a pile of trash, not bothered at all by my presence.

I'm trying to figure a way in when the Force comes to the aid.

A Zabrak child exits the wooden door, dragging a bucket of dark water behind her. When the rubbish mountain is near enough, she inclines it to let its content flow on the dirt. Then, she turns around to get back inside and petrifies at my sight.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I say first thing, crouching at her eye level. "A dear friend of mine is missing, maybe you've seen her."

My efforts to sound friendly are undermined by the fact that this is exactly how any Bounty Hunter would enquire about his pray - as if looking like one wasn't enough.

The child's eyes light at Ahsoka's description, and I resolve to influence her trust.

She instinctively steps back when I raise my hand but, soon, my inexpressive voice suggesting that she's going to tell me where she saw my friend captivates her.

Ahsoka was right here, 'sleeping on the back of a speeder' and the man driving it had 'wrinkly leather skin and spikes on his jaw'.

Probably feeling guilty for tricking a child, I offer her a few credit. She swiftly grabs them and disappears back inside immediately after.

When I'm back, Anakin is whispering in the ear of a gracious red-headed bartender. She holds her tilted head with a hand, exposing her fair neck, and leans on the counter to show all the possible cleavage.

I roll eyes, considering that probably this is why my Padawan never bothered properly learning mind tricks.

He quickly straightens up when I sit on the next stool, making me chuckle.

"What?" He bursts out, forgetful of the girl that, to be honest, isn't exactly delighted by my arrival.

"Maybe your lovely friend will appease my curiosity." I manage to keep a straight voice, despite seeing Anakin acting red-handed is hilarious.

I enquire about any Weequays at the cantina today. The girl looks at me with disdain, though Anakin's intense stare eventually wins her reticence.

We apprehend that the only ones around here are pirates - Anakin throws me a knowing look - and that they're using a smaller, secluded spaceport near the glacier, a few speeder hours from Diflu.

"Or a few minutes by shuttle," I try to conclude.

The waitress glares at me as I was a particularly obtuse Worrt. "Not unless the snowstorm stops, and this ain't gonna happen soon. They're closing the port right now 'cause the wind wipes ships away the moment they take off. Wouldn't try it, not even by ground. You'll most likely get snowbound."

When I explain to Anakin why we should be interested in Weequays, he grimaces. His mouth twists at the 'sleeping' Ahsoka part.

"Old friends," he growls, anger boiling under his dry words. "Can't wait."

We rent two speeders and buy what we need to face the cold. Then, I try to persuade Anakin we should, at least, wait the morning light to leave.

He explains quite clearly that I can follow him or let him go alone, making me miss the times when I had some authority over him.

It's pitch black and heavily snowing when we ascend to the surface; nevertheless, my 'I told you' look doesn't achieve any recognisable effect.


	21. Chapter 21

The blizzard is so harsh we barely advance, there's nothing in view but the small cones of light from our headlamps.

After about an hour, I signal Anakin to stop, baring my mouth to shout over the wind that I just saw a cave. I can't see his expression behind the scarf and goggles, but not even he can insist we go on. We leave our vehicles and begin the short climb towards the natural shelter.

Once inside, the light from our 'sabers allows us a first search; bare rock veiled in thin sheets of ice, no bigger than my sleeping quarters at the Temple. Standing at its centre, I can touch the roof just by raising my hand.

We should be able to warm it enough to pass the night.

Anakin places a ray shield to seal the entrance. I light a small fire, wondering if the low howl we hear is the wind or native animals.

"Ahsoka is smart, she'll be fine," I tell him because his face is breaking me. "We can't help her if we freeze beforehand."

He sits at my side without a comment. We wait in silence for our bodies to stop shaking.

Outside, darkness seems infinite, as if this cave could be the only spot of light in the whole Galaxy.

"When was last time you ate?" He eventually asks.

Apparently 'this morning, Coruscant time,' is not the right answer. Anakin snorts and starts rummaging in his backpack, grumbling that I should take better care of myself.

"Yes, Master," I mock, surprised by his unusual attentiveness.

He cracks a soft smile, warming up two rations over the crude fire.

We catch up on our news while eating. Anakin tells me that pirates have been flooding Diflu over recent weeks, harassing traders and smuggling ore off the planet.

After that, he frowns regarding my recollection of the operations hidden on Palawa and the Dark Signature I sensed there. We try to find a connection between our tales and the Embassy attack but conclude that we're still missing some links.

When the cave gets warm enough, we take off our coats to let them dry near the flame.

"What's that?" I ask, noticing a dark stain on his garment.

He thoughtfully looks down at it. "Told you, we had problems arriving."

My meaningful glare makes him huff, though he docilely removes his tunic and raises an arm to let me check his side, shivering lightly. I have a quick look at the small excoriation, winning the impulse to touch the prickles on his chilled skin but lingering in his warmth a little too long.

I throw him some Bacta from our luggage and get back to my spot beside the embers.

He applies the patch, sullenly shaking his head. "Bacta will never be the same again."

I can't hold back a snicker, and he eyes me, gratified with my reaction.

"Get redressed, you di'kut. It's not exactly hot," I tell him, glancing at my holocom to discover we are isolated.

He grabs his clothes with a chuckle. "I thought you said 'you're not exactly hot' and was about to cry a little."

I roll my eyes. "You already have plenty of validations on the matter; you shouldn't need mine."

"I wouldn't mind a second opinion."

His naughty grin makes me think of several practical ways to give him that second opinion. What I say instead, is that I took pity on that poor waitress at the cantina today.

Anakin fuels the furnace, answering that he can't help being irresistible to gingers.

"I assumed it was the other way around," I shoot back, a smirk rising on my lips. "I'm pretty sure that's not how I taught you to gather information, but nobody is going to scold you for making the most out of your qualities. I'm not your Master nor anything else, no need to act so guilty."

What I'm saying bothers him, and he masks it with a devilish smile. "Both you and Padme seem compelled to underline that you're totally not jealous... She told me you were eager to ditch her yesterday. I guess she believes you're covering for me."

"You're enjoying this way too much," I growl, wrapping myself in blankets and tossing him an extra one.

"You should become allies, and tell me to kriff off." He laughs. "Force, Padme would love it. She's always had a soft spot for you."

"The way I've always had one for her. I do wonder why we haven't got rid of you yet."

Anakin opens his mouth for a comeback but fails; his mind clearly running somewhere else.

I unfold my sleeping bag and suggest that we should rest now, in order to leave at dawn.

"I do nothing but think of you," he blurts out. "I fear this is why I lost Ahsoka today, and I feel like shavit."

"That only confirms what a mess we're making."

He whispers over my words. "...The way your body tenses, the way your last breath sounds aching, as though you're tearing apart."

"I _am_ tearing apart," I murmur, annoyed by the increased pounding in my chest.

His fingers reach out to touch my hair. "I know, I'm sorry..."

"You look more triumphant than sorry."

Anakin retracts his hand as if I burnt him. "Stang, Obi-Wan. I'm trying to say I see you hurting, and I want to help. Don't be an asshole."

"How could you possibly help, if not by leaving me alone?" I hold my gaze on the flame because he's too close, and I don't trust myself. "I can't be good if I keep breaking the Code, and I won't stop if you're around."

"You can't be good without me either. I'm not letting you go, and fighting will only consume you. Stop suffering, accept what is. Let it be."

I whine and turn my head. "You don't know me at all if you believe this is something I can do."

"I would have never imagined you doing half the things you did over last week. You're not obliged to remain the same all your life." His habitual smirk can't mask the gloom in his eyes. "We're karking it all anyway, the least we can do is enjoy ourselves."

"We're not obliged to head toward destruction either," I whisper, stunned by the way his feeling of inevitable, imminent catastrophe, matches mine.

"Aren't we?" Anakin asks and kisses me with unexpected, unusual tenderness.

Our half opened mouths move slowly one against the other as we centre on what is flowing through our Bond. I let him search me, exposing fears, wounds and needs. Light and Darkness.

"All this sorrow..." He whispers, his lips hovering over my own. He cups my face with his cold palm. "Stop being sad... Please."

Simple words that make me crumble, just because nobody has ever acknowledged this before.

He gently pushes me down on my sleeping bag and curls against my back, hiding his face in the crook of my neck.

I'm wordless, yet I do nothing to get free from his hug. I just lay there, tense and still like an idiot, as he mingles our limbs in the quilted bag, quietly digging through blankets and clothes to find my skin with his icy fingers. His Signature envelops mine; it soothes burns, fills cracks, reassuring and asphyxiating all at the same time.

"You should pretend to relax a little, at least." Anakin strokes my chest to warm himself up and nuzzles the back of my head.

Then, disappointed by my lack of response. "This is more complicated than sex to you, isn't it?"

"Let's just say I wouldn't have imagined you could find new ways to make me awkward."

"Still, I've not been kicked out yet. I'm starting to think you complain just so you can do what you want without admitting you like it." He sniggers into my hair. "Say it. Tell me it's not so bad... Warm and cosy."

"Your icy cold hand is not cosy," I quickly deflect, even though it's achieving inappropriate responses from my body, just from caressing my abdomen.

"Message received, you're not going to enjoy this," Anakin sighs. "Though, I'm sure you held me like this a couple of times when I was a youngling. I was so overwhelmed I couldn't sleep all night, and I yearned to ask you to do it again for months."

"Really? Can't remember."

Not long after his arrival, he would often breakdown, smashing everything in his room through tears of frustration. I patiently tried lecturing, ignoring, grounding. In the end, I gave up and resolved in hugging. He immediately calmed down, and we fell asleep like that several times. I wasn't sure it was the right thing to do, but I was about to panic, and more than happy it worked.

I was a wreck those days, and needed it as much as him, though I acted like I was barely tolerating it.

 _Nothing changes_.

"I wish I had the guts to take what I wanted from you sooner," he says with a melancholic, sensual voice. His lips on my neck cause me to shiver, his fingers tracing over the hair below my navel. "I longed for more of you all my life, and now-"

Anakin trails off, and I'm torn on whether I want to hear the rest or not.

He's reacting to my closeness, and the simmer in my loins intensifies; his wanting makes me reconsider my morals. I long to grab his wrist, drive his hand lower and let him quench what strifes inside me.

"Sleep now," I tell him, after a battle of composure with myself.

Anakin slides his hip away by a fraction with a loud sigh.

"Goodnight, Master," he says, and lightly kisses just below my jaw.

* * *

 _Editing: CoreWorlds_


	22. Chapter 22

In the grey light that precedes dawn, I see it has not stopped snowing. At least, pirates are stuck on this planet as well.

The fire has died, and I'm cold; my breath condensates the moment it escapes my lips. Anakin is still warm against me.

I concede myself a smile. This is Padme's Anakin, someone I had no idea existed. His affection confounds me more deeply than his Darkness.

We weren't supposed to share what we are sharing now, and he's just as much clueless about me. The last missing piece is at its place though the resulting complete image is not the one we were expecting.

I try to get up, and his arm restrains me.

"Dawn," I say, and he lets me go, a curious mix of care and sleepy sultriness in his eyes.

We have a quick breakfast, gather our stuff and dig the speeders out of the snow. Our silence is filled with thoughts about Ahsoka and the pirates.

The dry, efficient movements of our on field life, refined to the point we need no words. Being soldiers is what we do better together, I blame myself for having wanted more.

Outside, the sunrise shows us for the first time the immense expanse of ice we've been crossing. Despite the ongoing blizzard, light allows us to travel faster than last night, and we soon reach the glacier.

There isn't a real village, just a small spaceport, the mines and a few houses carved in the permafrost, half of which abandoned. Everything looks like having seen better days, and now enduring out of apathy.

Arriving from a field of nothing, a discrete entrance is not an option; nevertheless, we can try to get the best from what we have.

Anakin is expected, so he'll approach the pirates alone and - Force help us - take time negotiating. This, along with my armour, should distract them until I find Ahsoka.

The rusty hangar only harbours a lonely ship. Hondo's and Anakin's banters echo loudly in the empty space. They're showing off their sass, incited by the crew. This will take a while.

On the opposite side of the _Fortune and Glory_ , a pirate is smoking, slouched against the entrance hatch. He barks at me to move along, a hand lazily sliding down to the grip of his blaster.

"Need your boss, but he's holding a meeting right now," I explain, coming closer. "I guess I'll have a smoke here while I wait."

"As long as it isn't one of mine," he coughs, pondering how much danger I represent.

I take off my helmet and enjoy his staggered expression for a second, before hitting his face with it as hard as I can. The paintless dent his head leaves on the metal bothers me more than I would have assumed.

I run through the passageway laying below to discover the detention chamber is empty. Its door weaves lightly with a screeching sound, hiding half of an unconscious pirate's body.

My shoulder plate flies away at a close range shot, and I hit the ground. Pain spreads from my chest in burning waves.

A guard makes me look into the barrel of his blaster. "Who the crink are you? And where's that crinking girl?"

From my supine position, I see that crinking girl just above us, suspended from the pipes that run across the overhead.

Ahsoka lets herself fall over the guard and strikes his face with a kick. Blood splatters on my boots from the man's mouth.

I'm still trying to get up that she's already aiming his weapon at me.

"You must've inherited these bad manners from your Master," I say, and savour the astounded yet relieved way she heaves my name.

I admit I'm getting too fond of these moments of sudden recognition.

Ashoka takes my hand to help me stand up. She's about to remark on my attire, but my pained expression causes her to ask if I'm wounded.

"Mostly in my pride," I answer. "Rescued by the one I came to rescue."

Ahsoka doesn't smile back, and I foreshadow troubles. She stumbles on her words saying that we must contact the Council and immediately get back to the Temple.

"We can't," I tell her. "The snowstorm has cut us off, and no ship can leave the planet."

For the first time since we met, I hear Ahsoka curse.

She doesn't even waste time apologising. "That Bounty Hunter knew I had heard them, so she took me and... oh, I have been so dumb, Anakin is going to kill me!"

I stop her with a glance. She breaths deeply and starts over again.

"I saw Aurra Sing in Diflu, handing out credits to Hondo. A lot of creds. They were talking about a massive strike about to hit the Temple District." Ashoka frowns. "Master, they must evacuate it now."

My eyes move from her to the floor as I try to think fast.

"We take this ship," I eventually say, not sure myself. "Let's this two pirates share your cell. Then, you make your way to the cockpit while I recover Anakin. He might be able to take off regardless."

"I hope you're right."

"We'll find out soon," I sigh.

Sing's unequivocal outline is standing out among the exit hatch when I reach it. She greets me with a wicked grin and a tap of her elongated fingers on the bulkhead.

Melee noises come from behind her back; the thought of Anakin out there makes my stomach close in a distressed grip.

'So unprofessional' is what I think first, followed by 'no time for this'.

I dodge the first shot and Force-push her. Aurra flies outside and bangs her head on the durasteel floor with a thud sound.

Anakin is on the opposite side of the hangar, walking backwards to block pirates' lasers with his lightsaber.

"Nice negotiation," I shout out, making mine spin once.

"Take your time," he shouts back.

Aurra starts shooting at me when I try to reach him; enemies circle us as we get near to each other.

"Where's Ahsoka?" Asks Anakin when I'm close enough, reflecting a shot to hit a pirate's chest.

Behind our attackers, I see Aurra fleeing from the fight back inside the ship.

"On board. We're borrowing Hondo's vessel," I order.

Anakin's scepticism flutters intact to me through our Bond.

"You would've rolled eyes if this were my plan," he grumbles.

As we agreed on it, we surpass the pirate's heads with a jump and dash back under a rain of lasers and swears.

On board, we block the hatch, closing Hondo and his men out of their ship. The engine is already on.

"Sing is in here with your Padawan," I tell Anakin as we run to the command room. "And we're quite in a hurry to leave,"

When we get there, Ahsoka is twisting Aurra's arm behind her back.

"I found my 'sabers," she says to me with a broad smile. "Glad to see you found my Master."


	23. Chapter 23

"Take that thing off," says Anakin when the comm call ends.

 _Not the occasion I had in mind, but I wanted to say it so badly._

I sense this loud and clear, and it may be that I blush.

After a take-off that had got me nostalgic for pirate's blasters, Aurra Sing joined Ahsoka's guards in their cell. Anakin just came up to tell us her story.

Her employers needed weapons and explosive, Ohnaka provided them, and Aurra made the link. She's been travelling between Palawa and Dolomar for weeks. Good pay, easy job.

Aurra used to meet a bunch of Bounty Hunters in the middle of the jungle - no army in sight though the stuff she was smuggling was definitely enough for one. She overheard them discussing the Temple District more than once.

At some point, Aurra decided she deserved some extra credits and started keeping for herself a small part of what she was carrying. Those goods always find a buyer; she found hers in our Corellian terrorists. This has been her false step; the blasters could have been coming from anywhere but Dolomar explosive univocally linked all the players.

During the last exchange, Palawa guys were willing to terminate their working relationship in the most radical way, because of her cheat and even more because it was leading the Republic straight to them.

Aurra managed to escape, and here we are.

"I'm all right, no need," I answer to Anakin.

"Snips, tell him."

Ahsoka spins around her seat to face us. "Sorry Skyguy, I made a vow to stay out of your quarrels."

She's been apologising for her kidnapping since we left.

"Bleeding is not getting us to Coruscant earlier, Obi." Anakin huffs.

Ahsoka and I share an amused look at his slip.

Anakin scowls, attempting to look outraged more than embarrassed.

"I'm convinced, _Ani_ ," I mock him, stressing this last word as much as I can.

Ashoka snorts, earning another of Anakin's reproving glares.

I start undressing my upper body. Whenever my right arm moves, it hurts like hell. Anakin sighs and takes the scissors from the Healer's box to cut my clothes. Then, he cautiously starts unsticking them from the wound. This takes an impossible amount of time and is not nearly as fun as it sounds.

His frown deepens when the blaster burn is finally exposed - it's too near to my collarbone, all I can see is a blurred red crater.

"Whoa. That shot was close." Ahsoka grimaces. "Expressing pain is not dishonourable, Master."

"Stop squirming," orders Anakin, placing a hand on my waist to keep me still as he applies the bandage.

My hurting doesn't spare me the usual inner stir caused by his touch.

He has finished with me, and I should be dressing back, but his hand is still on my flank. I look down at it, and he abruptly takes it away.

Ahsoka is studying us with a worrying smile.

.

When we contacted him, Windu said Palawa was deserted when they got there; Aurra had blown up their secrecy, and the Separatists left, probably to haste in whatever they were preparing.

By any means, our discoveries allowed the CSF to patrol and evacuate the Temple surroundings.

This thought comforts us a little when, just before our arrival, we receive news about several explosions and a large-scale attack in the area.

I tell Anakin that I'm alerting our Commanders, and slightly lower my voice to add that he should check on Padme.

He gives me a slightly perplexed nod.

"Shall we land directly where the mess is?" Asks Ahsoka.

"No," answers Anakin. "We have prisoners to consign, and Obi-Wan isn't coming."

He hushes me before I can reply, "I saw you with Hondo's men. You can't use your 'saber arm properly, and you can't face a battle."

 _I can't believe it._

"We're in the exact situation I've been warning you against," I state. Ahsoka is intently staring at her knees, so I add that this isn't the right moment.

Anakin is too warmed up to listen. "Trust my judgement, for once. Not everything I do is driven by kniffing attachment!"

"Then do not act like it is!"

"For Force's sake." Ahsoka stands up, her small figure somehow towering over us. "Padawans do what their Masters ask. As for you, your ranks are equal, and you're both adults, could we agree each one decides for himself?"

She sustains our astonished stares without blinking. "This said, if you ask me, Obi-Wan's shoulder is bad enough to suggest he finds a Healer before doing anything else."

Ahsoka ignores my gape and prepares our landing with pursed lips.

"I hope someone else will save the Republic, today, because you two are a ship wreck," she mutters.

.

They run away the moment we step down the ship.

The area around the Temple is ablaze and the Temple itself, usually so quiet and composed, is frenzied. I take care of delivering our prisoners, but my eyes can't leave the windows showing my city burning.

 _Pain is just pain. Arm works._

I tentatively move it and cry under my breath.

I'm still pondering whether to join the battle or not when I sense the faint scent of a Signature I know. It vanishes if I try to reach for it and comes back when I'm about to give up. We're playing chase, and it keeps getting closer.

I stand still and close my eyes; people run around me like a river around a rock.

Then, I take lifts and climb stairs until I reach the terrace underneath the Northwestern Tower.

My guest is coming down from a Rogue Starfighter. She's a tall Chiss female wearing a uniform, cold and sharp like rough durasteel. I've read reports about her. Dooku's cub.

"So, it is _you_ ," she declares with an aloof smirk.

A terrible explosion makes the Temple below us tremble. The wind carries synthetic smoke, the sky is orange with flames.

"War is art. One must always take pride in a well-executed job," she says to the blazing city. Then, piercing at me head to toes. "Shouldn't General Kenobi be fighting among his men?"

"Shouldn't General Tann?"

"I had to see for myself that the Negotiator and the pathetic clump of self-loathing I sensed on Palawa were the same individuals." Her red eyes glow brighter as she sneers with conceit. "Self-hatred fuels the Dark Side as well, you know? Jedi worship the Sun and despise the shadows it casts. It isn't Darkness, but the fear of it, that will destroy you."

She's mocking me, and hitting near the bone too, but I can't help enjoying her pristine arrogance. I guess she reminds me of someone.

"The struggle to pursue Light is endless," I admit. "It requires strength and endurance, where all the Dark Side asks for is abandon. I can't understand why someone so fierce and gifted should enslave herself to a cause that is not even hers."

"I appreciate the chance of practising my art. Killing Jedi is just an extra benefit, though I confess I tend to relish it a bit too much."

"Speaking of which," I answer. "I'm afraid it's time to turn this pleasant chat into something more physical."

"Desolate, Kenobi," she genuinely sounds regretful. "Next time. Duty comes first."

I have doubts I can beat her using my left. Engaging her today is, at least, reckless.

"Teased and denied," I remark.

"That will only increase the final pleasure."


	24. Chapter 24

I'm sitting on an infirmary bunk, a Healer I've never seen before is taking care of my wound. It doesn't look so bad now, compared to what's around me.

I've not seen Anakin and Ahsoka yet, but I know they're okay.

Tann's men retired at the apex of their success, soon after she had left me. Ahsoka's warning allowed the CSF to defuse part of the bombs; despite this, many of the buildings surrounding the Temple are rubbled. The Temple itself suffered damages in its northern front.

We are still waiting for the casualties count, but I suspect the number of killed civilians will leave me aghast. Simply, we weren't ready for an attack like this. Coruscanti are used to terrorism, but they were somehow convinced their planet was immune to real war, and the city is shocked.

Quinlan is waiting for me in a corner; not looking good, but still in one piece. He tells me the story of his side of the battle, gesturing a lot and focusing on what should've been done differently.

He sounds weary and frustrated, so I'm relieved when his wit is back, even if he has to tease me to snap out of it.

"Long story short, real men were fighting while Master Kenobi faked sick to smooch his Chiss girlfriend."

The Council has just been informed of my roof encounter. Yet again I am surprised by how fast the news travel in here.

"Sev'rance isn't one to concede herself on the first date though I admit she has been amazing."

"Amazing in kicking our ass, you mean. Give her credit, next time you go on a date."

Tann has indeed been extraordinary, her attack was written like a tidy screenplay. Where Sing's greed forced her to improvise, it went on just as smoothly.

Walking back to the Accommodation Sector, I see the Temple is almost back to its quiet imperturbability, if not for the depressing gloom lingering around.

"You should've seen Ahsoka down there. I totally get why you love that girl, she makes me want another Padawan," Quin stops to ponder my unnecessarily proud simper. "Skywalker does not deserve her; getting why you love that boy is harder."

"Of course I don't love him," I mutter, opening my door. It seems a year has passed since I last was here.

Quin follows me in, pours himself a drink and offers me one with a glance.

I slouch into my couch, shaking my head to refuse. My shoulder burns and pulses, I wish I could sleep twenty-four hours straight.

He droops at my side and crosses his boots on my caf table. "So, what does Senator Amidala say about your Padawan fetish?"

"Coruscant is still burning, I'm not talking of this dwang," I explain, making his eyes roll.

"War doesn't change the fact that you can't pretend she doesn't exist."

"Funny. This is exactly what Anakin deems I should do; if I ever feel 'uncomfortable', he suggests I talk to Padme. If this doesn't work either, I could ask him to leave her."

Quin's face worth seeing. He's simultaneously appalled, furious and sorry.

"Holy Sith, Obi-Wan."

"Exactly. By the way, that was a bluff, he would never. Moreover, he knows I would never." I sigh. "To be honest, Padme is not even the real problem, if not for the fact that betraying her trust disgusts me... I don't want to be this kind of Jedi, and I can't stand myself anymore."

"Enough with this crap! We all break the Code without this much fuss; believing you should be better than us only makes you arrogant."

Quinlan and Sev'rance agree about my self-loathing abuse, this should tell me something.

A knocking at the door causes my friend to curse. "He's a barnacle. No wonder you can't get rid of him."

"Anakin only wants to check if I'm alright..."

"Like I don't know what he really wants," Quin grumbles, walking to the door.

Their greet lowers the room temperature of a couple of degrees.

"Obi-Wan is fine. You can go."

 _Shavit, Quin. Go on like this, and soon there will be dismembered limbs all over my carpet._

"I'm here," I call, straightening myself up to peek at Anakin from above the headrest. "Nice to see you alive. How's Ahsoka?"

"Bruised, but good. Your shoulder?"

Anakin's Signature boils. He's about to push Quinlan aside and enter.

"Could be better."

I reach them, but they do not stop piercing at each other. Their heads turn to me only when I purposely cough.

"You're cute, and I feel like a contended damsel. However, behave yourselves or get the kriff out of here."

"I said nothing!" They shout in unison.

I face-palm. "I'm sure there are more pressing problems than my virtue to consider right now. Besides, this has been a dreadful day; we're exhausted and tense. What if we all go to bed, now?"

"You're right," Quin tries, though eventually can't restrain himself. "But everyone should go to his own..."

"Quinlan!" I snap.

"Yeah, whatever." He gives me a deadly scowl. "Goodnight, Kenobi."

Anakin does all he can to look innocent and not too scornful letting him out but doesn't enter.

"I did nothing, you saw it."

"Sure."

"I just wanted to see how you are before leaving."

 _Of course. Padme must be frightened, anxious._

"Stay."

 _What am I saying?_

Anakin squints, as trying to see through me.

His confusion tightens a knot in my throat. I kiss him, right under the doorframe.

He's so staggered he doesn't kiss back but pushes me in, closing the door behind us with a foot.

"I'm..." I begin.

"Shut up," he says.

I take his hand and pull him toward my room.

Anakin is staring at me like I was some strange creature just spawned out in my living room.

"What the hell, Obi-Wan?" He finally blurts out.

"I'm worn out, and wounded, and fevered. And I want you."

"Here," I add, too late.


	25. Chapter 25

There's this dreadful thing hidden in me, a subterranean stream that runs underneath my life. A constitutional longing, a void that's never filled. Deep in the abyss of anguish, or at the peak of a blissful moment, whenever I check, it's still there. I've learnt how to fake it is not.

Tonight, that ache is not different though it feels remote, faded; looking away is easier. I guess this is what Anakin does to me, the reason he's so addicting.

He smiles but is still frowning. He had this look when he was my Padawan if I ever gave out a compliment or a fond word.

I want to kiss him again, but I need this eve to last a little longer; the way he's looking at me now is what I'll remember when all will be lost.

Anakin tests my forehead with his lips.

"This explains something," he comments.

He unfastens my belt, raises my tunic over my head and left arm. Finally, he cautiously frees my right from its sleeve.

"I shouldn't have asked," I whisper.

"But you did."

Anakin makes me sit on the bed and repeats the ritual with my inner shirt, looking absorbed. Then, he stops to evaluate his results.

I let myself fall back on the mattress, exhausted. I can't pretend this isn't what I wanted.

"I didn't expect you to comply. You weren't this obedient once."

"You weren't this brave."

He kneels to take my boots off. Then, he climbs over the bed and sits astride my legs, undressing his upper body.

I inspire deeply, looking forward to the texture, the taste of his skin.

When I try to touch his chest, my arms can't move.

"Anakin," I remonstrate. "What a-"

"Frivolous use of the Force. I know. I'll make it worth it." He comes closer, his smirk almost touching my lips. "I have no choice; you tend to be _so_ bossy..."

His whisper is subtly threatening, it feels like static on my skin.

I lift my head to reach for his mouth, but he retracts before I can thoroughly taste him. The anticipation is going to kill me.

"Hold your shields a little higher, unless you like the idea of the whole Temple jerking off to your Signature."

I bust out laughing. "Cringy image. Let's not mention this again if we want to get somewhere, tonight."

"I could profusely describe Yoda doing it and still take you somewhere, Master."

Even a cheeky promise like this can give me goosebumps. I'm leaving him in control to pretend I'm not responsible, exactly how he said last night.

Anakin is getting drunk with the power I'm granting him, his Signature fizzes. He studies me for so long that I wonder if this is all he's going to do.

"I can't decide where to start," he whines.

"Anywhere will do," I cry with frustration. I need to dig my fingers in his hair, to stroke his back. "Free me. I will behave."

His hands cruise around my bandage and slowly slide from my chest to my waist; leather and bare skin both feel cold on me.

We allow our Signatures to blend but remain aware of ourselves; this demands both control and abandon. We do it slowly, to avoid getting lost. The Force murmurs all around us and, for a moment, I wonder how it could disapprove this.

"What is it that you really want, Obi-Wan?"

I can't hold back a nervous snicker.

Anakin is not going to move until I answer.

"A kiss." I try not to make it sound like I'm begging.

He begins lapping my lips, making sure I fully realise how much I need him. When he finally obeys, he presses my head against the mattress, intruding, invading, until I'm winded.

Then, he stops to await my next request.

"Touch me," I sigh.

Anakin grins and moves his hand to the coarse fabric of my trousers. I want to say something sharp, to ask him again to let me go, but all I can utter is 'more.'

This catches his breath. His urgency as he takes off the few clothes we are still wearing is irresistible. He gives me what I asked, and I can't help grinding in his hand, flustered by my own moans.

A comm vibrates somewhere because, of course, I'm not entitled to this, I'm stealing it. Anakin frowns in its direction and gives me a quick kiss before helping himself into my night-table drawer.

"Answer to it," I tell him.

He comes back to me and draws a pillow under my hips, looking concentrated.

The buzz stops and starts again. It could be my comm, now. I forget all about it when Anakin starts using on me what he found in that drawer.

Our Bond shows me his impatience, but he keeps deliberately moving his fingers until he judges I'm ready. Then, Anakin releases my hands to guide them where he supposes I should touch myself. He places his tights under mine, seizes my hips and glides inside me. His invisible grip changes to a soft, constant pressure at the base of my throat.

I tense so he stands still, heavily breathing. Finally, he starts moving with a quiet groan.

The Force is silent for a second, then speeds its vibration, accelerating like a marble falling down a slant. We look into each other's eyes as he sinks in me, following its rhythm.

The clench around my neck gets stronger. It comes in bursts, now; it grows to the limit and is suddenly released. Anakin must use our Bond to avoid making me lose conscience.

This is wrong. It's less about sex and more about dominance. And trust. He could kill me stopping a little too late, pressing a little firmer. I'd like to say he would never, though, when I ask myself, I'm not sure. I find out part of me wouldn't mind.

He senses all this, as I feel its counterpart. The rush of risk through his veins. The shiver of being responsible over my life. What arouses him most is not the command, but my faith in him, my surrender.

The shadows engulfing us feel like cold mud, his Signature is a lava river across this swamp. I want to believe that there's some external energy dragging us down, but there's nothing besides us; his Darkness swallowing me, and mine allowing it.

When I'm close, my body relaxes instead of contracting. The lack of air makes my head light, sharpens the edges of what I feel. In this haze, I envision Anakin choking me the way he is now though we are fighting for our lives, and the world is falling apart.

My orgasm grows up from my legs in quivers. It makes my eyes shut, my spine curve, my lips part in a silent, breathless cry. When it reaches my core, it hits me so hard that Anakin gasps sensing it.

He buries his face into my neck and follows his need with harsh, desperate thrusts, forgetful of everything that's not his pleasure. He grabs hold of my shoulders to still my body against his; my wound bleeds as his warmth surges inside me.


	26. Chapter 26

My skin feels hot, but I'm shivering. I'm still breathing in sharp, convulsed gulps.

Anakin tries to move away, and I hold him still. I need his weight to anchor me down.

I liked how fading away felt, how it made him feel. There was nothing else to give, nothing else to take. I don't know who we are anymore. The abyss in his Signature, my vision, they haunt me. I love his Darkness. I crave it not less than his Light.

Anakin slides at my side and makes our foreheads touch, the way he did in the tent; an eternity ago, in a whole other universe.

His fingers brush over the round red spot on my shoulder.

"I keep hurting you."

 _Because I let you - and because I like it._

Though, I can't talk. We are still so caught up in what we shared that words feel weird. I need them to get back, to break the spell - to reassure myself that we are still two people. I must wait until the world beyond him starts existing again.

"You have a curious way of taking care of the sick and wounded," I say, rubbing my throat.

"Aren't you feeling better?" He smirks, drawing me closer. "Because I do."

I snort, and cover my face with my palm. He is the same he has always been. I kiss the top of his head and start idly drawing circles with my fingertips on his skin.

Our Signatures rest comfortably one against the other. We're falling asleep, his head on my chest, my arms around him. The end I foreshadowed can't come true if the morning never comes, if we never exit this room.

"It feels like napping on a stove," Anakin slurs.

"You're from Tatooine." I point out.

"This nothing like it," I feel his words more than I hear them. "This is good warm."

We're no longer making any sense, and I allow myself to fall into slumber.

.

I open my eyes a few minutes or a few hours later.

"You should take care of your missed calls," I say.

Am I really worried about Padme? Or do I only want to remind both of us of the price our actions? Probably, I just have a talent for spoiling things up.

Anakin utters a sleepy curse, "Those are none of your business."

He feels guilty about her. Being wrong has always made him aggressive.

"It is, if you fuck us both."

 _I wonder if you choke her too, if she lets you._

"What am I supposed to do?" He whines, like a child. "I want you both."

"And you have us. Your brilliant explanation convinced me you're definitely the victim here. Call her, now."

Anakin fractiously grabs his comm and does it; sitting on my bed, naked. His defiant stare goes on well with his shameless lies.

Padme's muffled voice sounds relieved first, then angered, then cold. Their call ends too quickly.

"Don't look at me like I refused to take a holopicture with some sick kid," he hisses. "It was you that asked me to stay."

Like most truths, this hurts.

Anakin sees my flinch, and apparently wishes he could take his words back.

"Despite all your ostentatious confidence," I retort. "You can't handle this thing better than me. It will burn us and scorch everyone else around."

"Then, end it. What are you waiting?"

We stare at each other, but I lower my eyes first.

He is right, we're in too deep to ever fix it. I'm not even sure anymore that it can be fixed at all.

"Let's pretend Padme and the Code are not an issue," I try to be dry, but only sound wretched. "Are we Master and Padawan, comrades, brothers, friends? Or lovers? We can't play them all and I'm afraid we can't be any of those anymore. We must learn to be something else."

"We are what we are. What we had before was a lie - or at least a half-truth. Now that all cards are out, we will never get back to it."

"We could move on, though... become something new," I sigh. "If you care as you say you do, set me free. You see I can't do it myself."

"This is so stupid," he groans. "I could ask you to stop rejecting me 'if you care'. Would you?"

His eyes fog as he fights not to give up to his usual wounded anger. "I want you and I want Padme. I'll do all I can to have you both. That's it. "

Anakin kisses me to confirm his words, with cold, open eyes. His tongue forces into my mouth with authority, as to reclaim possession.

I curse against my body; I want him again the moment his lips touch mine.

"You are mine, stop pretending you are not." He wrings my nipple, making me wince. "I need that scalding mouth of yours on me, right now."

Anakin takes my hand to show me where, and how urgently. He proved his point. We both know I'm going to do what he says.

"There's no way I'm setting you free..." I'm caressing him, and his voice is strained, husky. "It was you I imagined under me whenever I had sex. Or in my bed, a few step from yours, whimpering your name against my pillow. Terrified you could hear me and somewhat wishing you could..."

The images he is evoking make my body tighten; my free hand moves down in a futile attempt to soothe it.

"I knew you wanted it too..." He stops to catch his breath. "Still that small distance seemed infinite."

For years, I have been so ashamed of myself that I could barely look at him. I furiously meditated all day to obliterate him from my mind, only to dream about him each night.

"You were my Padawan, and too young," I whisper in his ear. "I couldn't even admit it to myself."

Anakin gasps when I rub my thumb over his tip. He lightly pushes on my shoulder as a gentle remind of what he's waiting for.

I sit up to look at his tense, aroused body. He holds his breath, his eyes begging.

 _Anakin is desperate for this as much as I am._

I'm struck by this simple revelation. I have power over him. He orders because he's hungry for reassurance. Our need makes us both weak.

"I'm not yours," I say, leaning down on him.

Anakin touches my neck, not daring to push, but compelled to juts toward me as I get closer. He twitches at my kiss, his keen moan directly affecting my groin. His hip moves with restrained jerks as my tongue slowly explores him, his scent, his taste.

I want him to drown in desire, but I'm too unsure about what I am doing. That's why I need him to guide me, to keep commanding.

I should just stop thinking, or I won't be able to continue.

My hand follows my mouth so that he is never bared. My fingers press into the soft skin between his legs. If I were brave enough, I'd let them slide lower, deeper, to probe the origin of his lust, the way he did with me.

Anakin repeats my name, as poetry, as a prayer, grazing my hair with rhythmical, suggestive strokes. He starts softly thrusting and my eyes close. I focus on avoiding choking, gagging. Circular breathing, as in meditation; isn't it ironic?

Anakin sounds surprised when he finally drives my head against his body.

" _Oh_. Master."

He spills so deep inside my throat that I can't tell how he tastes.

* * *

 _Editing: Diana_Prallon -_ _check my Ao3 for the fanart that goes with this_


	27. Chapter 27

Anakin is sprawled across my bed. A couple of his limbs weight on me and the space he left along the mattress border is not enough.

I asked him to set me free. He won't. Moreover, I don't want him to. What I should do and what I want are too far away. I keep oscillating in between, and as a result, I achieve neither of these. I'm so clueless and confused that I'm about to laugh.

I spoiled last night. I want this morning. I'll think about our troubles later.

I take away his forearm from my stomach and kiss his wrist. His Signatures feels beautiful. New and clean.

Anakin sighs at the murky light filtering through the shades. "It's a hideous rainy day, and you are more dead than alive. You can't get up today."

This is less a joke than he wants me to believe.

"Despite your questionable nursing methods, I do feel better... Are you sustaining I'm too sick to get out of bed though healthy enough to take care of your kinks?"

"Actually, that is part of the therapy." He smirks.

 _I want to stay here bickering and never worry about anything else again._

I wish I were able to say this - and I'm relieved I am not.

"I must learn something more about my Chiss friend and yesterday mess. You have your own messes to sort out."

Making him leave his bed has always been a pain in the neck. It is even harder when I myself want him to stay.

Anakin hides his face into the pillow. "We exit this room, and it's like nothing happened. You get cold and distant, and I have to start all over again... I just wanna hide here for a little while."

"Okay," I say.

He peeks at me from behind the sheets, and I fall for his boyish, surprised look. "If this is reverse psychology you are trying here, you should know it doesn't work on me."

"Let's do it your way, as mine has so far proven ineffective. I'm tired of bitching, arguing and being responsible for you and me. It is time to let you be irresponsible for both of us. You're in charge for the next twenty-four hours - more if it works."

His grin is that of a sniper who has just been gifted a precision rifle. "Are you telling me I order, and you obey?"

"More like I trust your judgment, and we find out where it takes us. I suppose you have a precise idea of how all this should be carried on. Show me, Master."

Hopefully, Anakin will learn that he can insist on his absurdities only as long as I curb them. Merely opposing all I say is puerile, adults actively look for solutions. We need to cooperate to get out of this swamp before it swallows us whole.

This is what I tell myself, though the truth lays somewhere else.

I can't fight anymore; part of me just hopes he will find a way to make it work. And I want to stay with him. It is as simple and complicated as that.

Anakin jumps on me and tickles my waist. He kisses my cheek, my jaw.

"What if someone needs us?" I ask between giggles.

"I hereby command you to stop giving a kriff!"

I laugh and raise my head to allow him better access to my neck. His kiss is going to bruise.

.

Anakin is indeed an excellent kark-it-all master.

As I awkwardly let go, his confidence boosts, and he gets unmanageable; a youngling that has been eating too much sugar for his own good.

First thing, he turns our comms off. (I try not to think about all the possible, terrible consequences).

Second, he cooks me a disastrous breakfast, making me remember why he wasn't allowed to use the stove when we lived together. We eat it in bed, pretending it is delicious and crumbling the sheets. He makes me let the empty dishes on the floor.

Then, we snuggle together and watch the raindrops running down the window glass.

"I hope you know what you're doing here," I say. "Because I'm scared as kriff."

"Don't I always?"

For some reasons, this is not nearly as reassuring as he's making it out to be.

I enjoy not needing an excuse to spend time with him, and I'm enthralled by his light-heartedness. By mine.

We pretend there's no Code, no Darkness, no war, no lies. No tragedy lurking from behind the corner. For a few hours, all is ready for a fresh start, nothing is compromised yet.

We nap in the afternoon, cradled by the rain sound, then we make love, seamlessly transitioning from one thing to the other. I wake up, and he is huddled against me. All I have to do is kiss the back of his neck and let my hand tread down his skin, listening to his drowsy moans as his body awakens; make Anakin suck my fingers, use them to win some attrition, and slowly lose myself into him.

All day, we chat about small private things, meaningless secrets we couldn't share before; different versions of same memories, new tales of old stories.

Anakin is thirsty for all those bits Masters hide from their Padawan. When I'm reticent or too shy to open, he sceptically raises an eyebrow to remind me I shouldn't care.

He's deadly curious about Satine, about any woman I've ever had, and can't believe me when I tell him there's not much to say.

"And then?" He keeps asking.

"Then nothing. We had known before it started how it would have ended. I got back to the Temple, and I haven't seen her for years. "

 _And when we met again, we were to each other a barely tolerable image of all that could have been._

"Satine still regrets it. She looks at you like she could eat you."

I try to scold him but eventually snicker. "She doesn't, you di'kut."

"In her lonely, cold bed, the Duchess remembers that time Kenobi made her scream..."

"Stop it."

"And imagines his scratchy beard between her legs..."

"Anakin!"

"And wishes her fingers could be his..."

I close his mouth with a kiss. He doesn't reciprocate because is still laughing.

"According to what you told me last night," I say when he has caught his breath. "The lonely bed you are describing is your own."

He blinks like I just stabbed him in the back, and I stroke my chin in triumph. "You have a dirty mind, Master Skywalker."

"I'm as dirty as a Nar Shadaa Twi'lek dancer. And you love it."

I feel the urge to smudge his mouth some more, but he continues before I can. "Seriously, she's still in love with you."

"Dirty and blessed with a vivid imagination. And a romantic too..."

Anakin ignores my banter, probably pondering over his opposite way of dealing with these issues. "So, did Qui-Gon know?"

"Masters always do," I snigger. "And we were pretty obvious, despite being convinced of the contrary. He was more worried about his Padawan being too dutiful than the opposite, so I suspect he was somewhat relieved. We were dining when he turned to me out of the blue and said 'try not to get Your Grace pregnant, please.' I choked on my food, and he punched my back, laughing. 'And keep those shields higher, for Force's sake!"... I confirm you two would have been dangerous together."

Anakin is laughing too, incredulous.

"Don't you ask about me?" He finally demands.

"Told you," I tease, cracking my most enigmatic smile. "Masters know. There's nothing new you can say."

"You're bragging. You would still be lecturing me if you knew it all." His allusive look makes my heart pound louder.

"I assure you it was pretty clear you weren't a virgin."

"But you preferred to pretend I was. Like, 'don't wanna hear a thing about those trivialities'. I've been convinced for years you weren't into sex at all." Anakin sighs. "Shavit, I've rarely been so wrong... What were we waiting for, Obi-Wan?"

 _For me to give up all hope of a happy ending._

 _And trade it for a fleeting happy middle_? - His thought, answering to mine.

We share a wistful smile because it rings true.

These mind scrambling got so frequent and out of control that I do not even remark them anymore.

Anakin pretends it hasn't happened. "I was convinced you knew nothing about Padme either; you've never said anything."

 _Let's not mention her today. Please_.

"Not my business, remember?"

 _No, no, no. Wrong direction_.

I keep talking, in hope to get back to safe terrain. "You are a Master yourself, how are you handling these things with your Padawan?"

"Ahsoka is too young for me to worry."

I can't hold back a doubtful smile, and he repeats it, gravely and deliberately slowly, as to convince himself.

"She is a good girl, she will behave." He concludes.

"This is what Qui-Gon thought of his Padawan." Anakin covers his head with a pillow, and I continue, enjoying his embarrassment. "She will be an adult and a Knight soon. You have plenty of experience on the matter, you should address it."

"I can't teach her what I can't do myself. If you hope she'll learn some temperance, you should do it; that's is your area of expertise."

Anakin does not realise the irony of telling me that when _he_ is the one that shatters mine in pieces.

For once, I am too happy to point it out.

* * *

 _Editing: Diana_Prallon -_ _check my Ao3 for the fanart that goes with this_


	28. Chapter 28

It has not stopped raining and my quarters have been wrapped in a dim grey light all day. Now, it is even darker; our room is full of shadows.

 _Our room?_

We've been here for twenty-four hours straight when the world outside had collapsed.

I imagine the debris around the Temple, the people working on it and the corpses, all soaked in rain. I force myself to remember I should feel bad for them, feel guilty for being happy while I'm dodging my responsibilities. All I achieve is a noxious lump in my stomach, just because the evening means we're about to part ways.

My selfishness is frightening, and I can't care about this either.

The more I have of Anakin, the more I want. The only moment when it is enough is when our bodies and our Signatures combines so that there's not him or me anymore. Probably, this is what addiction sounds like.

What I envisioned last night, when air and blood had left my brain, is still lingering around us like a mist. We were one in that moment; that was Anakin's vision too. The way we carefully tread around it all day reveals how different from a dream it felt.

I need a friend to talk to, but I don't want to listen to any good advice.

Ahsoka's calling from behind my door drags us out of our illusion.

Anakin grabs my wrist with a pleading glare.

"Get dressed," I whisper. "Our no-kriff-given policy does not apply to her."

We frantically search for our clothes on the floor. The moment we realise we are two very naked Masters trying to avoid a lecture from their Padawan, we can't stop giggling.

All that my hands find seems to be his, and I end up wearing a few things too dark to be mine.

"Coming," I shout, giving back a belt and grabbing mid air the sock Anakin is tossing me.

I flatten my tunic and open my arms to enquire about my respectability.

"The couch," Anakin orders with a nonreassuring furrow. "Be sick."

Finding her Master at my door doesn't surprise Ahsoka enough. Probably, her imperturbability should worry me more.

He overwhelms her with a tragic story about a terminal Obi-Wan, simultaneously broken commlinks and whatever. He is so fluent I begin doubting every word he has ever said.

His Padawan, however, is scarcely interested and only half-convinced.

"I'm much better," I interrupt. "I'm sure you're familiar with Anakin's tendency to turn everything into a drama."

He confirms it with a theatrical eyes-roll.

She gives him a side glance, places her plast bag on my kitchen counter, and starts unpacking. "I'm happy you're recovering, Master. I took the liberty of bringing you dinner. It should be enough for the two of you..."

"I'm sure it will suffice for three," I say. "Truth is, the Force never blessed me with such a lovely apprentice."

"We all get the Padawans we deserve." Anakin huffs, making her chuckle.

"Your hidden merits must be uncountable, then. Even Master Vos was impressed by Commander Tano, on the battlefield."

Ahsoka blushes, though Anakin isn't as flattered. "We don't need him to know Snips kicks ass. Quinlan can go kark himself. He's far too engrossed with both my Master and my Padawan."

The girl is clearly amused by this new animosity and ignores my signals to pass over. "Stars! Nobody's going to steal neither of them, Skyguy. I dread the day Obi-Wan takes a new Padawan..."

Anakin flashes a death stare and invites her to get lost.

I can't deny that seeing him struggle with an insubordinate teen is utterly gratifying.

As we eat, Ahsoka sums up what we missed. She says the Senate held an extraordinary sitting, as the damages to the neighbourhood are so massive I won't recognise the northern side view.

My stomach twists as if I caused them. Shot by a lonely pirate, missed the battle, let Tann escape; not my best day. And that is without even considering the following debacle.

"Master Windu has been looking for both of you." Ahsoka pierces at Anakin, a hint of reproach in her eyes. "I told him Skywalker was too exhausted to function and Kenobi was severely injured. He commented that neither of these things explains why you couldn't answer his calls."

I can't believe we forced her to cover for us.

Anakin draws her near and places a kiss between her montrals.

I throw her a contrite glance.

The girl purposely ignores both our reactions. "Mace wanted to learn about Obi-Wan's Temple-roof adventures, like everybody else. Each time I listen to that story, it has grown some new detail. Next time, General Tann will have two heads and spit fire. I crave for a first-hand impression."

I stroke my chin, looking for words. "Sev'rance has the sass of a holodrama villain. She is bold and arrogant as... Well, as your Master, young one."

He stomps my feet under the table, and hisses I only loathe other's confidence because I don't have any.

"There's a line between confidence and over-confidence, and you crossed it so thoroughly you can't see it anymore," I quietly retort. "Anyway, the only fight we had was that of wits. I'm pretty sure holovision heroes never let their enemies fly away unscathed."

Anakin cuts me off. "My Master used to say younglings learn how to use a lightsaber, and Jedi when not to. Tann's prudence is what's weird."

"She too must've had a reason to believe the odds were not in her favour. Her attack was rational while coming to the Temple wasn't; perhaps engaging me could've endangered a long-planned operation. Cockiness is a weakness, as Anakin teaches us."

"A weakness you have a weakness for." My glower makes him realise what he just said. "I mean... everybody loves a kriff-face, and Obi-Wan is no exception."

"We're here, Skyguy. Needless to say, we agree," Ahsoka comments as she cleans the table, seeming not to notice - or care - how inappropriate it had been. "Talking about kriff-faces, Quin plans to investigate Tann's whereabouts with you, tomorrow."

Anakin distractedly answers that he considers himself invited to the party. Ahsoka is peeking into my bedroom, not daring enter to retrieve the dishes on the floor; behind her shoulders, he points my neck, mouthing a word that could easily be 'hickey'.

"Just. _Why_." I murmur, trying to cover the spot with my tunic and wishing my glare could physically hurt him.

She turns to us, her gaze slowly moving from one to another.

My efforts to keep a blank face are useless beside Anakin's snorting.

"You two are worrying," she says, a corner of her lips lifting. "I like it."

The attack on Coruscant plays the bigger role in the holonews. As Ahsoka announced, the footage is impressive, and the survivors' interviews are gut-wrenching. After two years of war, these things shouldn't affect me anymore, but this is my city, my people. Before, I hadn't even realised this is how I consider them.

Ahsoka is on my couch, slouched against Anakin. They're fighting over a cookie bag and mocking every Senator on screen.

They have the compelling quality of what's both beautiful and ephemeral.

The girl peeks up at her Master, then at me. We need no words nor the Force to tell each other how we feel.

* * *

 _editing: Diana_Prallon_


	29. Chapter 29

"I'll take care of her. Just... slide away."

I gently shift the sleeping Padawan's head from his chest.

Anakin gives me a confused, circumspect look.

"I'm suggesting you go, laserbrain. You got it all, now try to keep it." I force myself to smile. "Let's just take what comes, right? We're good. Padme will probably be too if you drag that ass from my couch to 500 Republica. Don't make me believe I care about her more than you do."

He gets up and carefully studies my face until a smirk surfaces. "Sounds like the first step toward a threesome, to me."

I snort.

Anakin leans down, hand brushing softly down the edge of my tunic, and kisses me in a way that makes me wonder why the kriff I'm letting him leave.

'Beware what you wish for,' I think, deliberately allowing him to sense it.

.

I wake up to caf and bacon smell. Last time this happened, I still had my Padawan braid. In my kitchen, the morning is bright, the table is set, and a smoking tower of flat-cakes awaits.

"This is way better than the last breakfast I had and enormously better than all the ones I ate alone," I declare before taking the first sip from my mug.

Ashoka is pouring onto her dish enough frill syrup to drown. "If Anakin was responsible for yesterday one, you surely deserve compensation. This is the least I could do after falling asleep on your couch twice in a week."

"Whenever you want, young one. I like having you here. Home can feel empty."

This makes her mouth twist. She suggests that, probably, a new Padawan would have further perks than getting the old one mad.

Actually, she's not wrong; an apprentice would effectively keep Anakin at a distance, and my mind busy. Though our Bond already takes all the available space and I can't even imagine living with someone that isn't him.

"Don't tell Anakin," I finally reply. "But I'm not taking another. He has been enough for a lifetime."

 _And I've done enough damages already._

"We've been talking about you, yesterday..." For a moment, I'm unsure whether to continue but, as it often happens lately, it feels like there won't be any other chance. "I'm afraid your Master can't see you're not a youngling anymore. Probably, I'm not the right person either but, well... if ever there's something you'd rather address with me..."

Her fork freezes mid-air before she bursts out laughing. "I know, right? Anakin acts bold, but he hasn't even fully recovered from finding my pads. So, no, I'm not bringing the topic up with him..." Ahsoka takes a thoughtful bite, faintly reddening. "Honestly, 'there is no passion' is vague enough, and 'no attachment' doesn't necessarily imply chastity, does it?"

She gives me an awkward yet sly smile I can't help mirroring. For once, the subject isn't making me uncomfortable; her merit, not mine.

"Your Master will give himself fits if he finds out I'm telling you this, but it actually is a matter of interpretation and personal choices. The Force wouldn't forbid natural impulses for the sake of it. What remains to see is if - and how - you can fit them within the Code."

"It sounds... _complicated_ ," comments Ahsoka, so mindfully I want to hug her.

"Indeed, it isn't easy, neither mandatory - this is why many Jedi just renounce. It mostly is about knowing yourself and your limits, being aware of how far you can go before stepping onto shaky grounds. I like to think you're smart enough to deal with the 'no offsprings' part..." I quirk an eyebrow at her. She gives me a small, slightly cringing nod. "As for the 'no attachment' one, you can't decide once and for all; your conduct will have to adapt all through your life. 'No passion' might mean one should always be able to let go..."

"Mh, I won't be any good. I have trouble keeping boundaries... Theoretically!" She swiftly answers to my frown. "Force, you're the last person I imagined giving me this lecture."

"People keep telling me I don't give out that impression, maybe I should start asking myself some questions." I snicker and shrug. "I'm not different from others, Ahsoka. I too am flawed, and struggle."

Her smile leaves no doubts about what she'd like to inquire next, and I manage to prevent her. "So, what's on your schedule today?"

"Master Sinube's class and some training. Although, I guess Anakin won't be around..." She discreetly checks on my reaction. "What about yours?"

"A lecture from Master Windu, first. Then, from Vos. Not looking forward to either of those."

.

Outside, the Temple is still licking its wounds.

I cross its corridors wearing an inappropriate smile. My life is a disaster, and I couldn't care less. Delegating it, even to the worst possible person, feels amazing. I'm not myself, and it's scary and beautiful at once.

Gravely discussing last day attack with Windu, the angles of my lips keep raising. Neither his sceptical comments about my indisposition nor his snide remarks to me being unreachable manage to bring them down.

However, his disappointment doesn't stop him from enlisting me for tomorrow Council meeting and charging Quinlan and me with the Tann quest. Anakin will die before letting us go alone, and I'm not even annoyed.

He must've spent the night mending fences and stacking lies - among the other things I rather not imagine right away. I do wonder how many of them that woman believes in; if she hurts, if she even cares.

Perhaps, Padme is too busy to worry and prefers to look away. Maybe she's had enough of him. After all, I was never sure how much she loves him and how much she just likes the way she looks in his eyes. One day, she and I will have to sit together to compare all the tales he feeds us, and the ones we tell others to be with him.

I inhale deeply, forcing my mind somewhere else. Almost certainly, I'm still able to do something besides sleeping with my former Padawan. Catching up with my partner seems like a good thing to start with.

I find him surveying the arena, where Ahsoka is sparring against a tall boy.

Her peers are cheering for her; the guy she's hitting either is nobody's favourite or, he deserves it. The way she's fighting suggests it may be somewhat personal. She briefly falters when she notices me. I feel responsible, though absurdly flattered.

Pretending not to notice my idiotic expression, Quin reveals a long talk with Sing unearthed a few names worth checking.

He points his chin toward Ahsoka. "I came to ask if she heard anything from Ohnaka, but she's busy beating the crap out of some guy."

"I dined with her last night," I reply. "I could have asked her myself."

"You didn't because you're not thinking with your head, but with your lightsaber."

"Says the lightsaber enthusiast," I retort, summoning my most dignified glance.

Quin throws a heavy arm over my shoulders.

"My enthusiasm," he confesses with a grin "Mostly depends on the sparring partner."

Ahsoka's adversary vexedly refuses the hand she offers. She exits the arena, barely concealing the swag in her walk, and bows her head before us.

"I've never seen lovely and scary go on so well," remarks Quin, letting me enjoy her simper.

She learns what we want and frowns, trying to remember. "Aurra and Hondo were arguing like a married couple. She insisted they come back to Coruscant. He kept saying there was a - forgive me - 'shit storm' arriving here, so she could as well go pulling a Rancor's tail. She needed who gave her the job; from the way they were talking about her, someone too fat, even for a hutt."

Quinlan turns to me again. "This drastically skims my list. I suggest a tour of Master Vos' informers in the afternoon. Unless you were planning some more sparring with Skywalker."

"We can take a pause," I dryly reply. "You bring the topic up so much that I'm starting to suspect you'd like to train with us. Curiously, Anakin has the symmetrical wish to join our mission. Not sure which scenario is more frightening."

Ahsoka's eyes move back and forth to keep up with an exchange I delude myself she can't completely get.

"I'm sure they can work together without hurting each other," she intercedes. "They are _so_ _reasonable_..."

My friend slaps her back lekku.

The girl whines, sheepishly stroking it. "I would never let you spar alone, Uncle Quin."

He coughs and laughs all the same, making me fear for his life. "Force knows I've been sparring alone for too long..." My scowl convinces him to adjust his shot. "I'll gladly accept your offer once you're knighted, Padawan."

.

Later that day, I'm in a foggy, Force-forgotten cantina, waiting for Quin with my back against the counter. His informer is clearly going through spice withdrawal; his slurred speech and unsteady focus aren't positively affecting the questioning.

"Our hutt changes her nest every other day. She's in the F'tu district, now," my friend says when he's finally done. "We're endangering whoever we talk to; this one was scared to death. I wish scum could fear Jedi as well. Unfortunately, our threats happen to be way less efficient than Separatists' ones."

 _Anakin would know how to remedy this._

I can't believe what I just thought.

His inference in this mission would have been inopportune, and the idea alone of handling him and Quin together gives me a headache. I would be pleased he isn't in sight if only I could stop imagining him pressing Padme against a mattress.

The Kaerlia Queen Hotel was the place to be a decade ago. Now, despite the efforts to preserve the status, worn out tapestries and cracked stuccoes make it more decadent than posh. The local fauna matches; sordid and dusty.

Quin gives me way. "Your turn to shine, Negotiator."

The pimpled boy behind the Kirin-wood reception desk is staring at us up and down. Quietly weaving my hand, I suggest we do have an appointment, and he will give us the code to the attic.

He writes it down on a scrap of paper, thoughtfully repeating my words to himself.

I turn back to Quin. "People up there won't mind betraying Tann, as long as she doesn't know. Don't 'saber your way in, please, and avoid pissing everyone off, me included."

"Roger; lightsaber on my belt, mouth shut. Your concerns show you've been working with Skywalker way too much. Where is he, anyway? Still bodyguarding Senators?"

I decide he doesn't deserve an answer and let him follow me to the lift-tube.

The sliding doors open directly into a suite straight out of an old holodrama; all dark wood and reddish light filtering through thick velvet curtains - without mentioning the bodyguards grabbing our shoulders and the busty woman crossing legs over a shiny dining table.

"Our unscheduled visit is utterly unbecoming," I commence. "Our only hope is that news about Aurra Sing will gain us your boss' forgiveness."

The glimpse of panic in the woman's eyes at the bounty hunter's name confirms I played the right card. She purses her lips and escorts us without a word to the adjacent room.

Mama the hutt herself is sprawling all over a disproportionate bed, idly munching great handfuls of Moss chips from a silver plate. Her multiple chins are liberally sprinkled with crumbs.

The good thing with hutts is that they are predictable; pull the strings of credits and self-preservation, and you'll never have surprises.

Today, the second alone suffices. Sing's link with what bad happened to Coruscant over last week is all over the holonews, the next scapenerf will be the lady hutt that made it all possible. Offering the Council's - and perhaps everyone else's - forgetfulness is enough to get me two planets' names.

"Those will do," comments Quin when I'm back. "There aren't infinite places to hide an army, after all."

.

We agree to plan our next move at the Temple dining-hall.

Sadly, the peak-hour crowd doesn't spare me my friend's close examination as he decides where's the best place to hit.

I keep my eyes on my dish. "Go looking for Tann with someone else. Get rid of me, and you will get rid of Anakin as well."

"This thing is ours, Kenobi, we've been working on it since its beginning. Let Skywalker follow if he must. I'll behave unless you start making out right in front of me." My face makes him grimace. "Mother of Kwath. Getting laid makes you look like you're high on death sticks."

"Let's face it," I keep my voice down in hope he'll do the same. "You're obsessed with my bedroom activities."

"I'm not, asshole. It's just that I can't imagine you two..." Quin makes an obscene gesture I wish I could unsee.

"Luckily, you don't have to. So, do not even consider asking the thing you're about to ask."

"This is unfair!" He grouses, tremendously disappointed. "Pretend you have a friend. A good guy, if not that he's married to the Code and has been in his sixties since he was sixteen. Despite all your heroic efforts to find someone to warm up his bed, he only had had a couple over his life; girly humans, blonde, blue eyed, fair complexion, about his age, tight-asses know-it-all. He dumped them both without blinking the moment things got remotely day, you find this same guy absolutely fucked up, shagging a boy that's the most annoying shit the Temple will ever see. You'd suspect you've been missing some fundamental information about the kid. You'd end up questioning your so far unshakable faith in the direct link between the hilt size and other dimensions. You'd deserve to know who the kriff tops, by the Core!"

The Ithorian Knight at the next table turns his head to us. I bite my lip to smother a snicker, uncertain whether my lack of blushing is a good or a bad sign.

"If I were this dude's friend, I'd already know." I tease. "And, I'd cry over all the time wasted matching him with girls."

"That's heart-wrenching, indeed. You know what else is? Not being able to enjoy the first time I see you happy in ages. I know all too well where this will lead, and can't understand how you don't."

"Oh, but I do. I even had a vision." I already regret what I'm saying. "Anakin and I, trying to kill each other."

"Be assured you're not the first that fantasised of killing the Chosen One. I'm sure your Master told you that dreams pass in time."

"Anakin had it too, and we weren't sleeping. It has been... Triggered."

"What the kark were you-" Quin covers his eyes. "Nevermind, pretend I didn't ask. Let's stick to the vision."

"All was ablaze. It was him or me... part of me wished to succumb."

Saying it felt like purging a wound. We will go down together, and we can't save ourselves. It's so clear I wonder why I've been struggling before. All we can do is enjoy the fall. More than tragic, it's freeing.

"Nobody likes that foolish smile of yours more than I, so I hate saying this." My friend could as well be announcing my infected arm must be amputated. "You can't change what you feel, but it's not too late to take some measures."

My desolate expression softens his frown. He ruffles the hair on the top of my head like he used to do when we were Padawans. "More often than not, is trusting a vision that makes it happen, Obi-Wan."


	30. Chapter 30

The Council Hall is still empty.

I'm pondering dust particles floating through the golden morning light. I don't want to be here. I'm too coward to admit where I'd rather be.

Don't try, says the voice inside me. Let go. You've been pushing too hard, for too long. You got that thing you wanted, what else would you care for? Two being sharing what you shared, touching like you touched... isn't it a miracle enough? To hell with the rest.

As a Jedi, I had no idea surrender could be this sweet. I'm hollow but light, floating, drowning in molasse. Defeat brings an unknown, languid strength. Nothing hurts when nothing matters, when it's too late.

The soft, rhythmical thump announces his arrival, giving me plenty of time to wear the right face.

Yoda hops into his chair and greets me with a frown that says my efforts are useless. My improbable rambling about the attack on Coruscant and the quest to find Tann only brings more wrinkles to his forehead.

"An illness yours is," he states when I'm finally silent. "One fully never recovers from."

I turn my head toward the windows. The city's wound looks like a scratch, from here; it breaks the city pattern in an oddly beautiful way.

 _I'm not even sure I want to heal._

The Council members arrive in flocks, filling the room with their small chats.

Yoda continues like they're not here, his little turtle eyes bored into mine. "Survive you will, though. What throwing away you are, need you might. Lost all is not, hmm?"

He expects me to ask for his help once more but, when Windu commences his usual introductory speech, I still haven't replied anything.

Soon, it's time for me to expose what I know. I describe our possible objectives - once again, useless, scarcely populated rocks within the Core Worlds. As soon as our scouts figure out the details, I explain, we'll send an army to match Tann's. Or, depending on how much we are willing to risk, we could attempt a more circumstantial approach.

My words flow naturally, though I witness to them as they are not mine, like I'm an imposter wearing Master Kenobi's skin. Addressing the Council, the Negotiator wouldn't be musing on his Padawan's lips and the many ways they can make him beg. He certainly wouldn't be so happy. Remarkably, bystanders can't tell the difference.

I'm exposing pros and cons when all our comms start buzzing. The Council grimaces and peeks at them in unison.

Without a word, Windu activates the big holoviewer in the middle of the hall. It's the news channel, but the images are crackling.

Tann is among her men, looking straight into the camera; five hooded individuals knelt before her. She gently smiles, her red eyes glowing.

I understand we've already lost.

Many Masters stand up, Yoda has to hush them. As Tann presents her invitation to release all the 'political prisoners' in Coruscant, I frantically try to recall where I've seen the room.

"That's Kalevala, in the Mandalorian Sector," I whisper to Windu, calling the Force to slow down my heartbeats. "The Kryze's private residence. The Duchess is the third from the left."

Mace nods and repeats the news to his comm, then out loud to whoever is listening.

"Hostages positively all humans, two men and three women, one likely a Jedi," he states. "Master Ti, verify who is dispatched in the sector. Master Koon, demand the Senate and Mandalore their plan of action."

The Republic is given three hours to comply. After that, the hostages will start literally losing heads, one by one. Tann shows us how, tossing away one of the hoods and grasping the hair of the Duchess' chamberlain. Eyes still on us, she ignites her yellow lightsaber and beheads him with a single, slow dash.

A collected gush of blood spits on who's around. The hostages wince. Satine is so still I wonder if she's alive. The body topples like a doll's; a rare trail of smoke rising from the cut. Tann drops the head at her feet and closes the transmission.

Was this another occasion, I'd have admired the incongruous, poised chaos of the Council. A man died before our eyes; five more lives depend on our next actions and - except for a degree of sharpness - we move and talk like we're at a dinner party.

This is what we trained for; confine useless, hindering emotions somewhere remote, use energies to focus - or, at least, look as if.

"The Knight is Shaali Halerome, she's in the Senators Protection Program," says Shaak Ti to no one in particular, eyes on her datapad. "I'm checking to whom she was assigned. Master Krell is on Dathomir with his squad. He's our nearest man."

Things are more complex, from the inside. I'm more familiar with the Signatures in this room than with their owner's faces and, right now, each one is crackling in its own way - mine included.

Satine represented to me more than I'm willing to admit, and her life is at threat. My hands do not shake, my voice is firm. I'm ill, but so in depth within me that even the words to express it would sound unreal. I wonder if I could still willingly let my emotions range free. The line between keeping them under control and having none is thin but meaningful. Most Jedi struggle with it all their life.

My comm buzzes again. Anakin must've been watching the news.

"Have you seen it?" He's trying to sound calm but talks a little too fast. "The Senate won't submit to threats, and it will take ages to bring someone here from the Temple. The hostages won't make it."

I debrief him on who's already on the way. He comments with a grunt.

"You said ' _here_ '." I point out.

"I landed in Kalevala an hour ago. I'm heading to the Duchess' house as I speak." A prolonged pause, in starkly contrast with the previous frenzy. "Padme wasn't home when I got there, two nights ago. She and Organa had left to meet the Duchess, so I went after them - I guess they picked this hideous sandy rock because their encounter was far from official... And, yep, they're all knelt before Tann, right now. Alert Windu, if he doesn't know already. Keep to yourself I'm here, though."

Suddenly, I recognise I'm nauseous, and my heart is skipping beats. I cover my receiver with a hand and refer to the Council what my font says about the hostages' identities.

Then, I return to my call. "You won't listen, but I have to try. Seek help from Mandalore's military force or wait for our backup. You can't take an army on your own, Anakin."

"No plans of doing that, in fact; I'll focus on our girlfriends. Next hostage will be already dead before Krell even lands, I can't just cross fingers and hope that Tann will kill Padme last. I considered using Mandalorian soldiers as a distraction, but that risks to get on Sev'rance's nerves and hasten the head-tossing thing. In any case, I'm a couple of hours ahead of them, I count on being done in time for their arrival. What can you tell me about the residence?"

I close my eyes to retrieve memories. "Secluded estate. Walled gardens. Tons of servants and guards during the warmer months, when they use it. Probably empty now. I'm reasonably confident that the hall is in the east wing, overlooking the glasshouse."

"This will do. Your Chiss friend won't even understand what happened. May the Force be with you, Master."

Anakin hangs up, and I stand still, looking into the void. I can only wait here; the games will be over before I arrive. Yet, it seems I quit reason days ago.

I grab a bag at home and hurry to the hangar, where I bump into Ahsoka. She starts following, pouring on me all her worries, asking if Satine is in there, complaining that Anakin is nowhere to be found. Then, she realises I'm walking with a purpose and tugs at my robe to make me stop.

"I'm heading there," I admit, reprising my steady walking. "It makes no sense, I know it, but so it does waiting here... and no, you can't come. This is an order, Padawan."

"But, Master!"

I briskly rebuke her impertinence by pulling rank on her and reach the first available shuttle, a tired, faded T-9.

Getting on board, I see Ahsoka is still tailgating me.

"Waiting here makes no sense to me as well," she answers to my glare.

Ahsoka will want to be the one taking her Master back if he dies there. She'd never forgive me leaving her behind. Exactly the kind of thoughts Jedi learn to suppress. However, once surfaced, it can't be ignored.

"Do not even dream of discussing an order again. I will denounce your insubordination to your Master as soon as I see him," I tell her, and sigh. "All right, Tano... Climb on board."

Ahsoka bashfully nods, struggling to conceal her excitement. The moment she's ahead of me, she gives a soft squee and sprints toward the command room.

"Have some rest, Master. Let me flight this thing for you, at least."

Naturally, I do as she says. Anakin and his Padawan got me utterly docile, lately.

* * *

 _Yoda is scrambling Bukowski, here_.


	31. Chapter 31

As my pilot performs the gentlest of take-offs, I turn the holoviewer on.

The HNN is covering the Mandalorian emergency non-stop. Nothing new has occurred yet; they keep scrambling words around the same few concepts, wearily broadcasting the same footage on a loop. Their impatience for fresh blood is almost palpable.

Unsurprisingly, the Senate shows no intention to treat with Tann, and not only because she's asking too much; Satine's death by the hand of the Separatists would probably end Mandalore's neutrality once and for all. Moreover, I doubt the Chancellor will cry hot tears over the unfortunate loss of his most persistent political opponents. As for Shaali... well, she's just a nerf to the slaughter. I'm afraid the Republic has little interest in altering the natural course of events.

When Ahsoka comes back, I turn down the volume and invite her to sit with me at the small round table. I catch her up with those hostages' identities she was still missing, and reveal that her Master is on Mandalore as well - no need to add what this implies.

The girl is used to fear for the lives of those she cares for and to look braver than she is; silently looking outside the porthole for a few seconds is all she needs to swallow the news.

"You know him, Master. He's gonna make it," she says. "All we can do is keep an eye on the news channel. I'll get us a couple of sandwiches - if the maintenance droids ever refurbished this scrap - and we'll play Dejarik. Then, we'll rest and be ready for whatever awaits us tomorrow."

A child feels the need to soothe me, and I allow it. This says it all.

I lost faith into my judgment to the point I trust a man who deems reasonable to sneak all alone into a mansion patrolled by hundreds of elite soldiers - not to mention, the most powerful Dark Acolyte I've met in a long time.

We watch the soundless news for a while, lost in our thoughts. Then, we follow Ahsoka's plan thoroughly, affecting calm, checking the time till next death, struggling to keep our mind from what we can't change.

"So, what's with the boy at the arena?" I ask, waiting for her move.

"Chatting to confuse your adversary... I should've known Anakin had learnt it somewhere." Ahsoka takes a huge bite from her plar sandwich and nonchalantly traps me in a fork I totally should've avoided. "Your turn, Obi-Wan."

After a minute of thoughtful chin stroking, I resolve to save the M'onnok and abandon my poor Ghhh to its fate. My ego can survive this debacle only if I delude myself I'm letting her win.

"You're not answering," I remind her.

She pensively watches the old, scrapped board, where her piece is mauling mine. "The pus-bag was telling around I can't fight for shavit. And that I had slept with him."

I must cover my mouth to smother a snigger. "For the first time, I'm grateful I'm not your Master. He would've to lecture you, while I can say he deserved it."

Meanwhile, the execution video plays in the background so many times it loses any emotional content. We learn by heart the cruel, immobile angles of the Chiss woman's face, her chin up, her hands laced behind her back - a military, head to toes, just making a neat, clean job. If ever taking a life kindled a sparkle inside her, it was somewhere deep.

Her men have 'mercenary' written all over them, though their spotless ranks convince me Tann personally trained them. They respect and fear their General, and know mistakes are not tolerated.

I was too focused on the hall and Satine, the first time around, but now I see I could've easily recognised each hostage at first glance; Organa's bulk shoulders and distinctive purple, Padme's petite figure, the lumps of her impossible hair-do under the hood. Shaali's lightsaber hanging on Tann's belt, her short, childish fingers... rhythmically tapping her thigh.

"Saw that?" I ask.

Ahsoka follows my gaze to the holoviewer.

"The Knight's hand," I explain.

We squint eyes. The fingers only rest when the Chamberlain's blood spits on them.

"Mother of Moons," mutters Ahsoka, and springs from her chair to get her datapad.

"Let's hope Shaali's Mon Calamari blink code is less rusty than mine," I comment, rewinding the video.

Making sense of it takes us a while. The more we understand of Shaali's message, the more frenzied we get, and this only slows the process down.

"I contact the Council so that they can alert Mandalore," I say when its urgency is clear enough. "See if you can reach Anakin."

When my part is done, Ahsoka is still shaking her head to her mute comm.

"He's already there. Just send him a message." I say. "It's not bad news, young one - at least, not for your Master. Most of Tann's men must be in Sundari, ready to launch the same offence we suffered on Coruscant. This gives Anakin a chance."

"I suppose you're right." Ahsoka concedes. "To be honest, the more I think about it, the more the whole hostage thing starts looking like a diversion. Or a trap."

Then, Ahsoka peeks at the time and swiftly raises the news volume. Tann's extreme punctuality was predictable, I suppose.

The camera hasn't been moved, but it's already late night, there, and the images are darker than before. Tann's eyes display an odd hint of tiredness, a paler shade of red. Above all, she looks bored. She doesn't talk this time, just quietly takes away the next hood.

Padme exceeds all expectations. She stares into the camera, impassive, looking like she's just out of a Senate session. For Force's sake, her hair and make-up are perfectly neat.

Ahsoka's eyes have never been this big. I want to say 'look away', and maybe I do it.

"Wait, please! Wait!" Screams Satine from under her hood.

Tann looks at her like she's a pretty but disobedient puppy that probably deserves some discipline. Eventually, she finds out she can tolerate screams, as they improve the functional drama.

"Please!" Satine repeats, her voice breaking.

After this, it's all too quick. We hear glass shattering and see pieces fall from the roof on the hostages, closely followed by someone that can't possibly be Krell. Before anyone can react, he pushes Padme away and frees Shaali from her stun cuffs with his blue blade. Simultaneously, the girl's 'saber barrels from Tann's belt into her hand.

"The soldiers," orders her Anakin, while he and Tann prowl one around the other.

Ahsoka resumes her breathing with a loud gasp. I'm weirdly calm, though my hands shake lightly. This is the first time we witness to something like this from the outside. It's so frenetic we barely understand and, all the same, it lasts forever.

"You look upset, kid," Sev'rance sneers. "Did I take something with your name on it? Anger is not the Jedi way, they say, nor it is property..."

Then, someone makes the holocamera fall on its side. This stops the sounds and only lets us a partial, tilted view of what follows. Splinters rain from everywhere as the huge greenhouse windows are shot apart. It couldn't look more surreal.

Of Tann and Anakin, we only see glimpses of legs, blades flashing.

Shaali's side of the fight is further and blurred, but whole. We see her begin well, but gradually slip under. When about a third of the bounty hunters is gone, a shot hits her stomach. She falls on her knees, still parrying lasers with her blade.

Then, the shots storm abruptly stop. The soldiers lower their weapons in concert, saying something we can't hear. Anakin enters the frame from the left side - from above, for Ahsoka and me, like an angel or a demon looming on them.

Tann must've fallen; her men have no reason left to keep fighting and clearly no intention to face the Jedi who defeated their mighty General. Even Shaali disengages.

She tries to get up, but Anakin tells her a single word that makes her freeze. He keeps calmly walking toward them. With his glove, he wipes away the blood staining his cheek.

I know what I'm about to see, and so probably does Ahsoka. It will wound us, but we can't look away.

Slowly yet relentlessly, tilted Anakin mows the bounty hunters down. When he's done, Shaali is sprinkled with blood, kneeled among limbs.

A thin smoke is still lingering above the bodies when the Mandalorian's army barges in.


	32. Chapter 32

Laying in my bed, very still, I try not to think about anything and just listen to my heartbeat. My Master's words keep roaming around my mind.

'When we see someone's darkness, we know who they are." he used to say to his haughty Padawan. 'When we forgive it, we know what love is."

I roll over and ignore the ringing of my comm once more - Quin or Mace, wanting to brag that they'd warned me, expecting a plan to fix it all. They'd be surprised to know I have no idea what to do. This time, Anakin is not getting away with it, I tell myself, though it's more hope than foreseeing.

Find him, screams the voice, be with him and your troubles will end. But I've stopped listening.

A soft knocking at the cabin door. Before I can get up, Ahsoka appears in the shadows of my doorway. The shirt I lent her to sleep in laps her skinny knees.

We had turned off the holoviewer before it could show us what happened with Tann's men in Sundari and have barely talked, since then. Somehow, I wish she could just lose it; comforting her would be easier. Force, I've grown far from the Jedi I used to be.

We exchange a long, silent look. Eventually, I tilt my head and open my left arm.

She hesitates, frowning. Then, she crosses the cabin with her eyes on the floor and slips at my side; cheek on my chest, montral against my chin, shuddering.

I hush her even if she's not talking, and awkwardly caress her shoulder until her body softens a little against mine. It feels weird, but right.

"As much as you care," I whisper. "Anakin isn't your responsibility."

"Is him yours, Master?"

"He is. Everything's gonna be alright, little one. Sleep, now."

"Don't tell him about tonight, okay?" Ahsoka slurs against my shirt before falling into slumbers.

.

Space-travels sleep is commonly known to be deep and dreamless; it must be a combination of cold beds, engines' white noise and immobile dark outside. When I wake up, several hours later, we haven't even shifted our positions.

Probably, Windu considers fucking your ex-Padawan less immoral than cradling his Padawan to sleep. Ahsoka's not my daughter, for Force's sake; I'm overstepping, with everyone and can't stop.

I wonder what she perceived through her training Bond, over this last week; whether she's aware I occupy a portion of her Master's mind that should be hers, if she ever resented me for this. What's clear is that she shouldn't be stuck in this mess with us, and this should be enough to convince me to step back.

According to the time projected on the bulkhead, we will arrive before lunch - Mandalore dinner time. It should be long enough for everyone to calm down - if Shaali's conditions aren't critical and Satine hasn't had too many casualties on her part.

Anakin... well, I'm sure he's already found a way to get out of the mud with his hands clear. The Council adores beating him down, but war makes him indispensable; they will buy all he sells them with a relief sigh.

I finally resolve to get up and check the news. Sundari's attack wasn't much different from Coruscant's one- the city is wounded, but still standing. Krell had been too late for Kalevala but managed to make his part there.

Tann is confirmed dead; Anakin is Mandalore's new hero (his conduct is not questioned anywhere.) However, as I take care of my missed calls, I find out the Council isn't as prone to forgive.

I explain where I am - apparently, the why is taken for granted - and assure them I'll take care of everything; from bringing the Chosen One back for them to judge to settling any sensitive issue with the Duchess. This helps me pretend with myself that getting to Mandalore hasn't been foolish and sentimental but dutiful and conscientious.

Ahsoka has woken up and has been traveling around the ship all morning, muttering incongruent excuses and checking the route and the instruments every ten minutes. Her embarrassment is a good thing; it'll bring back between us whatever we lose sight of last night.

Before landing, we discover Sundari's dome is shut as a consequence of the attack. I must ask Satine to intercede for us with the spaceport.

"Appearing from nowhere when I most need a friend is classic Obi-Wan," she comments at the comm. "I'm sending someone to pick you up and bring you to the Palace, just in time for dinner."

.

Organa is the first one that greets us when we get there. He looks genuinely happy to see us, though he got ten years older since the Corellian gala. Probably, this is what he thinks of me.

"Your arrival is providential, General," he says the droids escort us to the dining hall. "We needed someone to represent the Temple - Krell just left, while Skywalker isn't... well, let's say this task suits the Negotiator better."

"How are you and the others?" I inquire.

"We're all shaken, but good - except for the Chamberlain and Halerome, of course - though it seems the girl will pull through. As for Padme and the Duchess, they are way tougher than they appear... but you know this already, don't you? Who's worrying is..." he glances at Ahsoka, as just realising she's been with us all this time.

The girl gets the message and promptly excuses herself. At that moment, Anakin and Padme turn the corner, arm in arm.

"Snips! What the..." He reaches his beaming Padawan with two of his long steps and rubs his knuckles between her montrals.

Then, he gives me the most victorious, allusive, equivocal smirk ever. "Now, I see... Someone needed an alibi to come here without looking too fool."

Instead of picking him by his collar, I smile back. I just saw him slaughter many surrendering men. He's here with the woman he loves, using my sins against me. Yet, these change nothing. The world, I realise in horror, started making sense again only when Anakin turned that corner - as every moment spent without him was a waste of time, as I wasn't even alive until we got together.

This makes no kriffing sense. I'm a Council member and a General; my life has a meaning of its own, it doesn't revolve around a kid, not even the Chosen One.

My lack of wit baffles Anakin; we end up staring at each other for a little too long. Padme is hugging Ahsoka, so only Organa notices it.

"Padme, I'm so glad to see you're safe," I say, struggling to break eye-contact with her man. "Senator Organa was debriefing me on the tensions last night made resurface..."

"It's good to see you too," she replies, locking eyes with me to let me know that she means it. "The planet is facing sensitive changes, and not only as a consequence of the attack on its Capital. The Mandalorians watched a Jedi rescue their leader before their army could do anything; this undermined their proverbial diffidence toward the Republic and the Order. Paradoxically, their love for the Duchess is what's weakening their support to her policy of neutrality. As you see, our role is delicate; help our mutual friend without damaging the institutions we represent."

She pulls me by my elbow to leave everyone else behind and continues under her breath. "The missing audio gave Anakin some room for manoeuvre. He sustained that Tann's soldiers had threatened to kill us if he didn't surrender - I suppose you don't need me to explain how it actually went. I convinced Bail and Satine to cover for him - by Shiraya, I have no idea why I did such a thing - but I'm still missing Shaali..."

We stop before the imposing transparisteel doors of the dining hall. Padme squeezes my forearm, checking behind her shoulder how much time we have left. "I don't know what's the quarrel between you two and, frankly, I don't care right now. It's quite clear Anakin is getting lost. He refuses my help, but will accept yours."

"Will he?" I whisper, just before the others are on us. "It's not like I'm not already trying."

They all assume fixing him is my prerogative.

Anakin huffs, sneaking between us and spreading the doors open. "For Force's sake, Padme, let this poor man breath. Obi-Wan knows how to lecture me without your intervention."

* * *

 _Qui-Gon's wisdom is not mine. He's paraphrasing someone called Marianne Williamson._


	33. Chapter 33

The sunset strains Satine's shadow all along the dining hall floor. When she steps out of the light blade, she looks leaner than I remembered. Her eyes are rimmed with fatigue and her pale cleavage displays too defined collar-bones. This new, subtle frailty makes me want to tell her all is going to be okay, or perhaps just feed her Puff cake and Hoth chocolate.

"Duchess," I murmur, bowing my head to kiss her hand.

Satine holds my shoulders at arms distance, as pondering a kid's growth. What she sees troubles her. However, when I offer her my arm, her lips raise in a thin smile.

As long as we all hang around, carrying flutes of iced sparkling wine and discussing politics, it goes relatively well - which is something, given that the topics of Mandalore's neutrality and the Senate's radicalisation aren't soft ones, and so they are most of the interlocutors.

It's when we sit down and move to lighter subjects that I realise what I've got myself into.

" _Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, bur'ya veman_ \- hard times show us who our friends are," Satine starts from her place at the head of the table. "This wasn't the first time the Order had fought side by side with Mandalore, neither it was the first time a Jedi had saved my life. In behalf of my people and personally, I thank you for your loyalty and commitment."

The Jedi at the table nod and murmur random polite words.

We all want to get our minds away from what happened and are glad when Organa breaks the self-conscious silence.

"If I'm not wrong, the Duchess suggested that Jedi had saved her before..."

"Toward the end of Mandalore Civil War," explains Satine. "The Death Watch had become determined to take my life. They only failed because Master Jinn and his Padawan came to my aid. We spent a year on the run, and they saved me many, many times..."

"This means you've meet Obi-Wan before any of us," deduces Organa.

"It's true. We were just like Anakin and Padme... about their age, I mean." She faintly reddens. Probably, I'm the only one noticing it. "Master Jinn was an extraordinary man. Getting to know him influenced my approach to politics and life to a great extent."

Memories flooding back make us exchange a smile.

' _Take a room already_ ,' loudly thinks Anakin, gaining a poke in his ribs.

"What about twenty-or-so Padawan Kenobi?" He asks, wriggling away. He's sitting between Padme and me, of course, and looks perfectly content.

"Obi-Wan was - he will forgive me - a huge dork and an insufferable _mir'sheb_."

They all laugh and inquisitively look at me.

"The Duchess is saying I was a smartass." I translate.

Satine gives an unusual girlish simper. "Glad to see your Mando'a is still good."

"I just kept in mind the good parts, _ori'dush dala_." I turn to the others. "As Satine put it, it seems she was a damsel in distress, desperate to be saved. I admit this is what I had been expecting too. However, when my Master and I arrived, we found out the hardest part of our mission would have been convincing the damsel to let us protect her... and keep up with her courage and determination. We lived hand-to-mouth for months, never sure what the next day would bring. If I ever had been the boy Satine describes, I wasn't anymore when I left. That year taught much to me as well - above all, to never underestimate a Mandalorian damsel."

Satine raises her glass. "To damsels and Jedi, so - and to all those who gave their lives for Mandalore."

"To Shaali Halerome," adds Padme. "May she recover soon."

Anakin leans toward me. "I'll bring you visit her first thing tomorrow. It will make miracles."

"There's no denying Master Kenobi is a pleasant sight," reflects Padme. "But... _miracles_?"

"Shaali is Obi-Wan's fangirl," Anakin explains, making all the table quirk eyebrows.

"Please, none of you listens to him," I intervene. "He has no idea what he's talking about. Shaali has been incredibly brave, last night, and doesn't deserve..."

"Is she your fangirl or not?" Anakin interrupts.

Surprisingly, is Ahsoka that comes to the rescue. "Come on, Master, you're unjust. Obi-Wan is a well-known Council member and war hero. There's plenty of younglings and Padawans who dream to be like him."

"According to Master Vos, Shaali would rather be on top of him."

The grown-ups snicker. Ahsoka rolls her eyes.

"My dear Padawan," he continues. "The time has come that you know the truth; Shaali's illness is more common than you could possibly conceive. Just consider this: apart from you and Senator Organa - and I still can't swear on either - I know for sure all those sitting around this table contracted it, sooner or later."

"Enough of it, Anakin," I order, covering my face with my hand. From behind my fingers, I distinctly see both the women blush.

"I maintain I'm so far immune... just let's hope it's not contagious," says Organa, eyes shining at the new piece of information. "Well, now Master Kenobi should reveal how he does it so that we could all enjoy his same privileges."

"Bail, please, at least you... ignore these absurdities..."

Anakin strokes my thigh under the table, as to soothe a nervous pet. "The answer is simple. Obi-Wan flirts with everyone and everything, often without even realising - he just can't help it. Someone is mauling him? He still finds the time for intense eye contact and smooth lines."

Satine is stuck in between cringing and laughing. "I find myself obliged to confirm this last part, but let's focus on something else. Master Skywalker, you aim to embarrass the unfortunate victims of this disease, but your words reveal more about you than they do about us. Obi-Wan is handsome and kind, it's no news that women appreciate these qualities. It's your disclosure that's surprising... shouldn't he be a fatherly figure to you?"

 _If you're asking if I've ever wanted to call him daddy: yes_.

Anakin's thought gives me a coughing spree. He hits my back, blatantly amused. "Your Grace, I assure you the Padawan/Master relationship you're alluding to is uncommon. On the other hand, one can hardly take a step inside the Temple without stumbling in a Padawan secretly wanting to bang their Master."

"I've never," solemnly and promptly declares Ahsoka before I can scold Anakin for his language like he was ten. "Though, I've never thought of you as a father, either. Big bro, maybe?"

"Thanks for reinforcing my theory, Snips, and for remarking I'm the only unfuckable Master of the Order... I'll try not to get offended. What I'm trying to demonstrate - and I beg your pardon, Duchess, for my colourful language - is that there's really nothing unexpected in my admission, moreover as my Master happen to be the same man whose virtues you summed up so well."

"Is this a declaration, Anakin? Touching."

"Well, Master, don't flatter yourself, now. I've never affirmed we were still ill, just that we had been, at some point."

"In any case, we're neglecting a fundamental aspect of the question..." underlines Organa. "Senator Amidala."

She replies between chuckles, apparently having more fun than everyone else. "Oh, I thoroughly stick with Satine's opinion, and confirm nothing of this is surprising."

"So, am I the only one taken aback by the revelation?" I conclude. "Somehow, I have the unsettling feeling I'm not making the most of it."

"You made him aware, Anakin!" Jokes Padme. "You created a monster!"

* * *

 _\- the 'hand to mouth' bit is quoted from a tcw episode_

 _\- I'm taking this moment to advertise: did you read my other fics?_

 _ **Sand** is a sequel of Mud, somehow. It takes place after rots. It's not obikin, but the Obi-Wan there is the same he is here, you gotta try it. just trust me._

 **Braid** is silly, light obikin, from Anakin pov. it just started, it's my way to take a break from the struggles of the other two.

I wouldn't mind your opinion on both :)


	34. Chapter 34

"I apologise on Anakin's behalf," I say when everybody else has left. "It wasn't the place nor the time for any of that. On the other hand, you should forbid such cruelties under your roof. Guests are sacred."

Satine closes the library door behind my back. The wine gives her cheeks colour, and shine to her eyes. "Stop grousing, old friend, and learn to acknowledge a compliment, when you're paid one... Under the pretence of teasing you and scandalising the others, that kid tricked all the table into singing your praises all dinner long - quite an elaborate courtship, I dare say."

"This is exactly what Anakin wants you to believe. Don't fall for it, please, it's all part of his mockery. Still, I credit him for your mirth; you needed that, and it's beautiful to see."

"You seem compelled to validate Skywalker's theories about your smoothness." She sits at her desk with a soft wail. "The truth is, I just reached that point where exhaustion turns into euphoria... I've been probably drinking too much for diplomacy, but I'll be busy being pilloried by the Ruling Council, tomorrow. Go ahead, Obi-Wan, say the thing."

I take a deep breath - frankness has always done better than tact, with her. "Being rescued put you in a tight spot. Padme and I cleaned after Anakin before. Let us help."

"A generous offer, but I'll sort this out on my own. The Republic's support makes me appear weak, and I can't pay its price, anyway; Mandalore will never join the war. Now that we've stopped dancing around, I'll add that sending you, of all the Jedi, to have me more agreeable is a cheap shot of the Council."

"You don't seem all that agreeable. Also, the Council did not send me."

Her wit gets stuck on her lips. She shakes her head, confused. "This is... Not like you."

 _I'm not like me, indeed._ _The shell cracked, and all the insides are pouring out._

"No need to show off more of your fierce independence, Satine, I've seen plenty of it already. Just ask."

Her fingers follow the wood grains of the table top, circling around the knots. When she finally speaks, I know what it costs her.

"The Ruling Council suspects me of being in league with Senators and Jetiise. Padme, Bail and Anakin should assure them our encounter was of a... _personal nature_. Would this give Anakin troubles within the Order?"

"He has so many already that the Council won't even notice. He's not the best choice for such a sensitive issue, but you can count on the rest of us; consider it done. Be aware, though, that this version will expose you to a different kind of gossip."

"As long as they don't assume I'm a conspirator, I don't care. There's nothing they can say I haven't heard already." Satine gives me a condescending glance. "Never thought about it, Obi-Wan? An empowered, unmarried, childless woman pushing forty is more than enough, even for Mandalore... Kind of funny how your life choices substantially coincide with mine but are never questioned."

"There's a straightforward explanation for mine." My voice instinctively softens. "People find it harder to understand why a woman with your qualities isn't married."

"Apparently, these qualities are incompatible with a husband." She snickers at her own words, then stares at the darkness outside the window. "It just... wasn't meant to be, Ben. A Jedi must know that a legacy isn't necessarily an offspring. I'll adopt my brother's son, Korkie, after the war. It will distract slanderers from my supposedly softened form until I'm too old for them to worry. Besides, I've always loved that boy. _You'd like him_ , _too_..."

Satine scowls like someone's just said something inconvenient.

" _Wayii. Haryc b'aalyc_ ," she mutters to herself and gets up to open the doors back. "The wine is making me prattle. If you're a friend, you'll send me straight off to bed."

With reluctance, I follow her invite and bow my head to wish her a good night. As I pass her by, though, she touches my arm.

"Regarding the actual reason Anakin was on Kalevala, and what he did there-" Satine trails off, enlightened. "But you know about Tann's men already, don't you? You even know about Padme and their new way to handle an old issue."

"Anakin is a... complicated legacy. I'm taking care of the matter."

"That's what Padme said, too. Yet, the boy could burn down Coruscant to save any of you, and you would be covering for him without a flinch. He's got you both blind, Obi-Wan, you'll wake up only the hard way. Was this my only worry, I would've minded my business like you think I should've. But I witnessed his power and what's he's willing to do with it; the game you three are playing will bring consequences on a bigger scale... You treat Anakin like he's a naughty but lovable rascal brother of yours, but that's not what he is."

 _A brother... oh, Satine_.

"And what is he, then?"

"Danger. Acknowledge it, and render him harmless." She caresses my cheek, searching my eyes for something. "Feelings incapacitate you as they do with any of us, after all... a truly bittersweet satisfaction."

"It has always been about who hides it better, you know," I take her hand and bring it to my lips.

Satine smiles. For a moment, she can't hold my gaze.

"I wish life had been kinder to us," she whispers before kissing me goodnight.

.

The room I've been assigned to matches the severe elegance of the Palace; hard stone, and fragile glass, not unlike its Duchess.

I stare at the huge bed for a while, as it could hide some elusive yet ultimately obvious revelation. I still feel Satine's touch, hear her voice boding dire outcomes of my weaknesses.

 _Damn woman_.

Her words eat into my brain like a worm - the truth everybody sees but me. However, it doesn't change that I miss Anakin, with an urgency that reminds me of withdrawal.

I lay on top of my covers, immobile. When Anakin arrives, I'll try to discuss what he did last night and what we saw when we were one. He'll close my mouth with a kiss and make me forget about everything.

He isn't coming, though. Not my turn.

In fact, they're so close I must focus not to sense him.

I toss my clothes and shoes off and crawl under the blankets. This bed is too big for my body to warm it. Had I held Satine's hand when she touched my beard, this wouldn't be a problem.

 _I could let Anakin feel us_.

This idea is ghastly. I must ponder it a long time before comprehending it's about vengeance. The Darkness is all mine, this time, there's no blaming Anakin. I'm actually fantasising about hurting him back - unheeding of the collateral damages to Satine - when it is only me who deserves the pain.

In the end, it's this concept that persuades me to reach for him.

Anakin is totally unshielded, expecting me like I've been expecting him. Perceiving me stokes the flame already burning into his Signature. The forces battling inside him are so dreadful I wonder how he endures being stuck in there.

In exchange for this unsettling disclosure, I give him what he craves: I let him feel from the inside just how defeated I am, how annihilated, without sparing anything.

Our Bond has gotten so sensitive we do not feel through each other anymore; it's me that wants her, takes her, and enjoys my ache.

It's already too late when I try to break contact. My hand slides down my stomach - my desire not mine, but his for her.

I hate what he's doing to me. My love is a disgusting illness making me rot from the inside.

As pleasure shakes our legs and curves our backs, I wish I could be sane again, whole again, free again.

* * *

 _The lovely JediStormbringer is to be credited for the beta-reading and the editing._

 _I wouldn't have made it without her support. And yours. I worked on this story strenuously, and now am exhausted. But happy._

 _Hope you enjoy._

 _Alcalina_


	35. Chapter 35

A few hours later, I'm heading toward the infirmary. Besides me walks the woman I just had sex with, and never touched once.

"I asked Anakin not to come," she says. "We're better than him, at this."

 _Not something I would wear on my sleeve._

"I thought about it, Padme. I can't ask a Knight to lie to the Council."

"Good thing I can, then. Just stay there and be as Master Kenobi as possible."

.

When we enter the room, Shaali raises her blue eyes from her holopad. She's half-sitting on her bed. Two long blond braids and an infirmary gown in place of the Jedi attire make her look like a child. The attempt to straighten up makes her grimace.

"No need to pull your stitches out," I say. "I just wanted to express my appreciation for what you did. Truly remarkable."

The girl's simper boosts my self-loathing.

Padme touches her shoulder lightly. "I'm so relieved to see you're better. You saved my life, Shaali. If there's something you need..."

"It was my duty, Madam." The girl frowns and looks down at her own lap. "Actually, to be bold... I could use a word with Master Kenobi."

Padme throws me a meaningful glance. "Of course, dear. It makes perfect sense, and it's easily done. I'll be waiting outside."

When we're left alone, Shaali gives the impression she's regretting her request. "I'm afraid there's no tactful way to say this, Master Kenobi... What they told on the news is not what-"

"The footage I saw was clear enough, Shaali. Still, I appreciate your concerns and discretion. In fact, Senator Amidala came here to demand you to confirm the official version."

"And what are you here for, instead?"

 _A straight shooter. I like it._

The girl profits from my bafflement to ponder me. Eventually, her mouth curls in a sly smile. "Your line here was: 'to commend you on your exceptional courage and make sure you were fine, young one.'"

"I must've lost the script... what's next?"

"Master Kenobi sits on the bed and takes the Knight's hand. 'I need you to cover for my former Padawan,' he says, 'because I must take care of his troubles personally. Do this for me, Shaali.' His eyes are so persuasive that all the poor girl can do is comply."

I find myself smirking. "I don't like the way I look in this piece.

"Trust me, the one where you denounce Master Skywalker to the Council makes you look worse... you can call Senator Amidala back if we're done rehearsing."

"We're missing the part where I thank the young Knight."

"Let's keep that for the sequel." Shaali grins.

.

On our way back, Padme doesn't bother to conceal she's studying me.

"You're troubled," she concludes. "If it's about Anakin, be assured we'll find a way to bring him back on track together... Is there something else I might help you with, my friend?"

Without looking at her - I just can't anymore - I refer what she could do for Satine.

Padme nods and says she and Bail will meet the Ruling Council in the afternoon.

"If someone understands what that woman has to face every day," she adds. "It's me."

Then, she reveals they need another day in Sundari to take care of the original reason that brought them here. I don't ask further, and she doesn't tell - if I know them, it has to do with the word 'coup' and Mandalore's potential support on it. We seem to agree a Jedi better not know too much on the matter.

As for me, I'm not spending another night like last one at the Palace. In truth, getting away starts to seem quite a priority. I plan to bundle my stuff up, check whether Ahsoka is joining me and leave this place in time for lunchtime.

Of course, I bump into Anakin before I can achieve any of these.

He presses his mouth to mine and promptly pushes me into the nearest room - the library again, as it happens.

I wriggle free and wipe my lips with the back of my hand. "You must be some special kind of stupid if this is what you have in mind. You took it too far, Anakin. If it's not your conscience, then it's the Council that will bite you back."

"Lectures are a big turn-on of mine as well, but I've been missing you too much for foreplay." He starts fumbling with my belt. "Kriff, a part of me wanted you to be mad about last night, not about Kalevala.

I grab his tunic and pin him against the shelves behind his back, so roughly some holobooks fall down. This makes him smirk. I'm close to hitting him.

"Why do that?" I hiss.

"Do what? I just left the door ajar, it's you that peered in... Honestly, there would be no need to hurt you if you could only show me you care."

"More than by karking all I believe in? I could die for you, and you still wouldn't be sure."

Anakin clutches my chin but frowns like he can't remember what he was going to do with it. "I'm just as trapped as you are, Obi-Wan. You ruined sex... you ruined everything; all that isn't you tastes like sand."

The need in his voice weakens my resistance. I let his lips trail along my jaw.

"Our Bond is eating us alive," I manage to utter. "I've been more Anakin than I've been me, over last weeks. I can't remember which thoughts are mine - which needs, and emotions. Sometimes, I even wonder why I should care. Staring into each other eyes can't be all it is. Wasn't what the Force showed us explicit enough?"

"The visions that scare me are about things I can't control. We can simply choose not to fight... I'd never hurt you."

My eyebrows raise.

This tints his irises with a cruel shade of orange. Anakin strokes my crotch rudely. The hopeless whine that escapes my lips surprises us both.

"Apparently," he whispers into my ear. "I have what it takes to win this negotiation."

It's true. I can preach all day long, but can't deny what I need right now is for him to fuck me.

"Patience, Master," he answers to my unspoken wish. "Down, first...'

Before I even realise, I'm kneeling before him, docilely undoing his trousers. Anakin guides my head toward his groin and growls when I allow him inside me.

"The mighty Negotiator," he cries, holding me steady. "On his knees for me."

Though, he's yielding to me just as much - this is why punishing me is so satisfying. If I deserve it, it is by reason of the pleasure I take in this.

Whenever I start to suffocate, Anakin indulges in one last, angry thrust before letting me catch my breath. He watches me cough, my eyes wet, before starting again, and again.

When he's had enough, he pulls my hair to shove me against Satine's desk, my stomach on the tabletop. He yanks my trousers down and uses his fingers, hastily, roughly. I must bite my lip to refuse him the satisfaction of my moans.

I'm unbearably vulnerable and exploited; yet, his violent thirst grants me power. There's more to it than the lust of being apart a few days. Anakin's marking his territory, writing his name on me for everybody to see. He covers me with his body, in fact, like an animal would do; pinning me down with his weight, panting behind my ear.

It's too hurried for our Signatures to blend, so they just clash one against the other, forcefully interlocking the way our bodies are.

I can't hold my whines back anymore. This inflames him. When I'm silent for too long, he shifts his position to make me cry again.

His hands move up from my shoulders to settle around my neck. His choking is disordered, this time, uncontrolled - Anakin doesn't calibrate it in gradual bursts, he just grips hard to get deeper inside me.

When the hold is tight enough, I know this is how it will happen - he won't use the Force, but his hands. I'll shout that I loved him, and watch him burn.

The sudden flash inside his mind washes away my fantasies. A crude energy runs from his limbs to his loins, making his whole body jerk.

The late drives are strained, as Anakin desperately tries to prolong the instant I was his.

* * *

 _Editing: JediStormbringer - check my Ao3 for the fanart that goes with this_


	36. Chapter 36

Anakin's sweat gets cold against my body. His breath slows down, hot in my ear, until he parts from me. The doors open and close again before I can even turn.

I redress alone - for the better, as the scene is miserable. Then, I drop down on the floor, my back against the shelves, my heart still hammering.

I pick up one of the holo-books from the carpet. 'The Big Picture,' says the writing on the screen. A novel. I'd have said Satine only had time for essays.

I wonder what she would think seeing me hit rock bottom on the stone floor of her library room - just in the spot where she warned me, a few hours ago.

They say you can't go further down. Actually, the seemingly lowest point is just the edge of the pit. From down here, however, the sight is crystal clear.

I can't surrender if what we saw is the price. In spite of all the excuses I've been making, the answer couldn't be simpler.

It's not what we feel for each other that's destroying us; I can save Anakin - and my true self as well - without going anywhere. I won't even have to let him face his Darkness alone. He will kick and scream, but there won't be anything he could do about it. It will hurt, but it will be right and irreversible.

The wheels have been spinning for too long, retorts my Darkness, they won't stop for anyone. The lighting hit the tree already, it will set the forest on fire, whether somebody is looking at it or not.

The chance the rain will come, or the wind shift is indeed slight. In any case, ignoring it is a luxury I can't allow myself anymore.

Hope has no mercy, I consider getting up; it asks me to trade the only thing that ever mattered for a vague promise. What is sweet, instead, is the cleanliness of a difficult choice when it's made. When I exit the room, I'm lighter than I've been in weeks and wide awake. Quin will be so proud. I'm not sure I'll be able to handle his gloating.

"I'll wait here until Shaali's well enough," says Ahsoka when I contact her. "Skyguy gave me permission to borrow his ship to take her back... Is it fine with you as well?"

"Of course, do as your Master says. May the Force be with you, Ahsoka."

After that, there's no one else around to say goodbye to. Anakin is waiting for me on board of my exhausted T-9, just as I expected. From the Dejarik table, he greets me with a beautiful, sad smile that makes my legs weak.

His presence won't affect me like this, tomorrow. Being free will be a relief.

"You're upset, and rightly so," he says. "I'll get off the ship if you want me to."

"It takes two for what we did, I'm not angry. Stop fiddling around and take off," I reply.

It's my Master voice talking, and I haven't heard it in days. I take it as a good sign. Anakin gets startled, instead. As he heads to the flight deck, his Signature ripples.

It's past noon. The idea of making some kind of lunch passes through my mind and is immediately discarded. This too will get better, eating will be easy again.

"I had lunch already," Anakin shouts from behind the bulkhead. "This doesn't mean you can skip any more meals, though."

Resignedly, I grab a bag of moss chips from the galley and drop into the co-pilot's seat.

"Nowhere in the Galaxy would that be considered lunch," my pilot grouses as we enter the black.

I toss one of my chips in his hair. He ruffles it away with a chuckle.

'Paddling upstream has worn us out,' I'd like to tell him, 'it won't get better, for the current is stronger near the waterfall. There's a purpose, though, in the flow we've been fighting, an inherent rightness...'

But Anakin knows all of this already, and he wouldn't listen to a word, anyway. We'd start arguing. Probably, one of us would end up angry-screwing the other against the console.

I eat my snack in silence.

"We don't really have to get back to Coruscant, you know," he says, eyes on the control panel. "I change the route, right now, and we leave it all behind."

A place on the Outer Rim with no war yet, a simpler life. Anakin would come up with a fake name so stupid I wouldn't be able to call him without snorting. He would cook hideous breakfasts every morning, and make love to me each night. We wouldn't need words anymore, but he'd keep using them because we'd miss the sound of his voice.

The mental image we share breaks me, as well as the fact that he means it.

"Is Padme coming?" I inquire. Somehow, this hurts him more than it hurts me.

"You could just say you don't love me enough for that," he groans.

"Would it help?"

"Is it true?"

"Force, Anakin..." I cover my face not to kiss him. "My feelings won't stop what we saw from happening."

He gives me a frustrated glower. "Nothing will, you delusional _or'dinii_. Just grab all you can before the ship crashes."

"Precisely the purpose for which I'd rather save the arguing for Coruscant," I mumble, taking his flesh hand in mine.

Anakin frowns at our laced fingers and pouts like he suspects I'm doing him wrong.

"Is it us that you're planning to crash?" He eventually sneers. "'Cause you won't. You need me."

"I do," I admit. "But I don't want to watch you die."

My unprecedented openness scares him; I sense his stomach clenching. There's no need to explain again why we can't follow this road further. It's not like I expected him to help, anyway.

"A smarter guy would already be making the most of the time left," I remark, searching his eyes.

Anakin whines for he has no defence against this argument. He pensively strokes my lower lip with his thumb, as if taking my measure. Then, he lifts my chin and kisses me - so gently I'm baffled.

All I can think of is that he tastes good, and I'll miss his mouth. I can maybe cure my dependence, but I'll still have to deal with my attraction and my feelings.

"You would never," he repeats against my lips.

" _Later_..." I whisper. "Please."

With a sigh, Anakin stands up and pulls me by my arm into the corridor. He opens the closet door, first, and we giggle. When he meets the right one, he pushes me on the small bed, making me bounce on the mattress. Somehow, we can't help being incongruously happy.

"Bigger cabin next door," I say.

"Clothes," Anakin orders, and I chuckle.

"You said not to waste time!" He points out.

I undress under his intense scrutiny, trying to burn into my mind the way he looks at me. Being wanted is another drug I shall learn to go without.

"Clothes," I mock.

Anakin tosses his tunic away and kicks off his boots. Then, he lays at my side to get rid of his belt and trousers.

" _Force_ ," I breathe out when his body is displayed for me.

He stretches, relishing my stare. "And to think I was convinced we would've meditated all the way back."

"Sort of," I absently comment, giving in to the impulse to touch his chest.

"If you ever cared to read 'Galactic Cultures,'" I reply to his perplexity. "You'd knew the Anzati combine Bonds like ours with sex to enhance their connection to the Force... And no, before you ask, this doesn't excuse us; they minimise the risks of addiction by resorting to it thriftily."

 _And by keeping love out of the mix_.

I let my fingertips graze his flanks. Then, I lean down to kiss where they traced. His skin has the leathery scent of his clothes.

"We're already proficient, even by Anzati's standards," Anakin concludes, caressing my hair. "Let's start our own Order."

 _'Next life, maybe_ ,' I think out loud, my mouth too busy for words.

I cover him in light pecks, leave marks on his neck, and lap his nipples until they're hard. He titters, hums, and finally moans. 'Nevermore' echoes in each kiss, adding urgency to our craving.

As our minds start to tangle, what's left of our shields goes to rubble. The world gets blurred. Nonetheless, our hold on reality remains steady. We cling to it, to each other, as the storm whirls around us.

" _Master_ ," Anakin calls. His voice reverberates through me.

I come back to his lips, and we kiss like this; naked bodies and naked minds. His touch is fire on my skin as he takes us in his hands. We pant together, our mouths near, for as long as we can.

Then, Anakin makes me lay on my back and sits astride me; his hair sticking to his forehead, his cheeks flushed. He recovers from my belt what he needs to get ready and slowly guides me into him. We sigh as we fuse, finally regaining where we belong.

The bunk is so small that Anakin can support his rocking by pressing both hands on the overhead. I use mine to stroke him. When I shift my hips, he silently cries, and cries.

The Force sings in our veins; our Signatures perfect halves, our climaxes raising in tidal waves. As we submerge, for a moment, we are whole.

.

Afterwards, we lay in each other's arms, breathless. The air still vibrates with the energy we freed.

The Force is whole too; there aren't two sides of it, but a single, continuous surface. Light and Darkness are the same substance, only existing by virtue of their contrast. Anakin's shadows enhance my lights, his lights enhance my shadows. I entrusted him with those parts of me I couldn't even look at, and he accepted them like a gift.

It's a long time, since we last were alone. I fear I won't have the guts.

"What you're trying to save isn't worth losing this," he murmurs.

Before doubts prevail, I take his face between my hands and say those things I won't be able to repeat tomorrow - that he changed me, and that I love him.

Anakin brings my hand to his chest, his eyes wet. I close mine.

The place where our minds conjoin is a smooth nub, like a plant graft, or an old scar. It has the wistful beauty of what took a long time to build and feels precious for the same reason.

"Obi-Wan..." His heart pounds faster. "I'm begging you."

I expect torn flesh and a leaking wound. Instead, it comes off with a clean snap, like a fruit stem; leaving only a neat void.

Anakin gasps.

I have no idea of what he's feeling.

* * *

 _Editing: my dear JediStormbringer 3 - check my Ao3 for the fanart that goes with this_


	37. Chapter 37

**_Note from the author:_**

... _Now, beware 'cause I'm getting sentimental._

 _Mud is my first story._

 _I gave it all I had; it gave me back so much._

 _It made me meet my lovely editors and you, beautiful readers._

 _If I made it to the end is thanks to your comments, support, and friendship._

 _Love you guys._

 _Alcalina_

 _I'm glad you followed me all the way here. I hope this story left something to you._

 _If so, leave me a word to let me know, please, and make my day once more_


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